Falling Through Paradoxes
by CatalystOfTheSoul
Summary: Danny can't remember the nightmares that are waking him, screaming, in the night. While Lancer gets more suspicious, an unknown figure starts to mess with the time stream. Will Danny and Lancer survive being trapped in the middle ages without Clockwork?
1. Bad Dreams

FF

FF

**Disclaimer: I don't own DP, I wish, but sadly Desiree doesn't seem to grant my wishes. 'sigh' Authors not at the bottom, enjoy! THIS IS A DARK CHAPTER! Not that dark, I don't go into detail or anything, but chapter two is probably WAY brighter than this chapter in comparison. Rated 'T'.**

Bad Dreams

"Hello Valerie." It was such a good feeling to say that. Sure, Danny said it every day to her at school. But this is the first time he could say it to her, while in ghost form, without some kind of attack on him. Odd, he didn't remember any truce being held.

"Hey Phantom. I was wondering when you were going to show up. Been sitting here for a while now." Danny grinned and hovered in front of her above Fentonworks. It was a nice night; the stars were out and shinning brightly.

"How did you know to find me here? This is the home of a ghost hunting family, not ghost helpers. Shouldn't I be giving this place a wide berth-or something?" Danny faltered at the end; something was fighting its way through his mind, trying to tell him something. His brow furrowed in concentration.

"I don't know Phantom. Why do you come here? Why don't you just tell me? Why do you always have to be so secretive? You say you're not like other ghosts, but then why do you keep secrets? You're dead; you shouldn't have any secrets left!"

Oh yeah, now he remembered, this was a dream, a dream that didn't end well. Val wanted answers. Answers he couldn't give. How did this dream end again? He couldn't remember exactly, but a deep sense of forbidding flowed over him. Not well. This was not a good dream. He had to get out of here, had to get Val out of here, something was wrong, something was coming.

"Hey, Phantom! Listen to me! I want answers, and I want them now!"

Danny looked at her; they had to get out, now. "Val, not here, we'll talk somewhere else, but we have to leave! Something's coming this way an-"

"Oh no, Phantom! You have been avoiding me for too long. I'm not leaving this spot until you answer all of my questions! I have waited and waited and you still won't say anythin-" She was interrupted by a trembling on the ground. It was coming from Fentonworks. She looked down, confused.

Danny paled, he knew what was coming, he could feel it coming, and he could feel _him_ coming. And he knew there was nothing he could do, the dream was going to play its course, while he hovered in the air, watching. Danny couldn't move, but he no longer wanted too, there was no stopping it. Dark laughter filled the air, and a deep, masculine voice followed. "You want answers Valerie? I'll give you answers. I'll give you all I've got. And when I'm finished, you won't want answers anymore. No, you'll want release. The pain I will put you through, and all you will have to blame is yourself, you trusted me, a ghost, after all."

Valerie looked up at Danny, and he could literally taste the fear, anger, and confusion rolling off of her body. He hung his head and looked at the ground, there was nothing he could do, and he knew how it would end. The same way it ended last night, and the night before that, and the night before that, and so on. A different person that he cared about, every night would be tortured to death in front of his eyes. And he would be stuck there, unable to move or help.

He could do nothing but whisper "Sorry." Every time Valerie screamed, cry silently from his place in the air as Dan Phantom lovingly proceeded to rip her apart. He couldn't move, he was tied to his spot in the air; there really was nothing he could do. This dream started off with such a good feeling in his heart, and now, he was paying for it. Good feelings were replaced by sadness, frustration and anger.

And when Dan finally just killed Valerie, bored of making her scream in pain, he couldn't help but give a scream of his own to her death cry. He had just killed a friend, after all.

LINEBREAKLINEBRAKLINEBREAKLINEFREAKLINEBREAK

Danny woke with a strangled scream, glancing around his room, fully awake. _Ouch, my head. What just happened? What time is it? _Danny glanced at the clock, and groaned, four a.m. He was far too awake for this hour; there was no way he would get back to sleep now. _Oh well, the early bird catches the fish-or worm. Whatever. _Danny groggily climbed out of bed and prepared for a shower. It was going to be a long day.

And maybe the hot water could help him find out what he had just dreamed, and why he kept on waking up with so much fear. This was the last day. If he couldn't remember it, he promised Sam he would talk to Jazz about it. With a heavy sigh about the long conversation he seemed doomed to have with his sister, he snatched up a towel and entered the bathroom. Like he said, it was going to be a long day.

**Alright this is my very first FF, do you like it? How am I doing so far? Is Danny in character enough? (Val doesn't have to be IC because its dream Valerie, so live with her OOCness, it's Danny's dream, take it up with him!) I have an OK outline of where I am going to take this story, but suggestions would be nice.**

**Did anyone notice the line from 'D-Stabilized'? I didn't get the quote exactly right, but it was Danny talking this time, not Valerie, so I had to change it up some. And yes, Val was in her huntress outfit, in the beginning she was on her hover board waiting over Fentonworks.**

**Short chapter I know. But they get longer, trust me!**

**Virtual cookies to all of my reviewers! This is my first FF, so I am pretty much desperate for any review, flamers welcome! Chapter 2 will be up shortly! (and it will be WAY longer)**

**P.S. How do I make a **_**real**_** line break? I am totally clueless…**


	2. Waiting

**Disclaimer: I don't own DP, as Desiree continues to ignore my wishes…**

**Thanks to all of my reviewers: Nylah, Shining Zephyr, Cordria, TPcrazy, and dragon of spirits for everything!**

* * *

Waiting

* * *

Friday, 8:25 a.m.

Danny sighed; Jazz was worrying away and bringing up as many crazy theories as she could. It was all she could talk about since Danny woke her up at five to tell her about his dreams. At first she was puzzled that he had woken her so early, but she didn't push to ask why he didn't wait for her to wake up naturally. She was too busy talking to him about psychology to pay it much notice.

The truth was, after Danny got up, a feeling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach formed and kept growing until he couldn't take it anymore, and just woke up Jazz to relive the stress of sitting there and doing nothing but shiver in terror about a dream he couldn't even remember.

Jazz had insisted that she drive him to school today. So he was busily tuning her out and watching the streets pass by when a cold shiver went down his spine and a cloud of freezing air escaped his mouth. "Oh great, just what I need, a ghost problem to make me feel better."

Jazz (who had cut off her speech when she herd Danny gasp) simply shook her head at her little brother's heavy sarcasm. "You know, Danny, I can handle it while you go to school. I can fight ghosts too, it shouldn't be that bad." Jazz sounded worried, as always.

Danny half succeeded in suppressing an eye roll "No Jazz, I'm pretty sure this can help me blow off a little steam. You go ahead and I'll talk to you later."

Jazz bit her lip, "Alright, but take the Fenton Thermos, I don't want you to forget it. _Again_."

Danny chuckled and made a show of picking it up, the last time he forgot it Skulker tore apart half the mall before Tucker and Sam came with the Fenton Thermos and locked him up. "Bye sis." Danny 'went ghost' and phased out of the car before Jazz could utter another complaint on his memory.

With a sigh, Jazz slowed down her car. If Danny was late to school she could always say that they got a flat tire and Danny would be free of detention for once.

Maybe that would give her more time to talk to him about these dreams that scared him so much.

* * *

Friday, 9:14 a.m.

Mr. Lancer looked up and sighed when he saw a rugged and sweating Danny Fenton enter his classroom. He was, once again, late.

Mr. Lancer glanced questioningly at his young pupil for a moment. He seemed to be exchanging a silent communication with his friends in the back while walking over to his desk. Lancer got up and walked behind the unsuspecting Daniel and cleared his throat. Danny about jumped out of his shoes and spun around, Lancer noticed his young pupil's eyes dash to the door, the window, and even the vent before settling on him.

"Oh, yeah, sorry Mr. Lancer, I-I have a note." Danny stuttered out violently. Now that he was closer he could see that Danny's hair was messier than usual, and he was sweating and very out of breath. The kid looked like he had just run a marathon. Then again, maybe he had just run all the way from his house to here. It wasn't unusual for Danny to be late and out of breath.

But this time there was something else in his student's eyes that startled Lancer. Fear, Danny was afraid of something. No, he was terrified of something; the look on this child's face went much deeper than fear. It unsettled Lancer deeply to see this. Terror _was_ unusual for Danny, he was a nervous and shy kid, but not ever terrorized.

Puzzled, Lancer took the note and handed Danny the current assignment. As he made his way back to the teachers' desk, he opened the note. It was from the office stating that Danny and Jazz Fenton had gotten a flat tire on the way to school and was delayed in coming to class on time.

Lancer frowned, if Danny had gotten a ride to school, no matter how delayed, he shouldn't look like he had just run a marathon. There was also the matter of Danny's caution at looking around the room before looking at him, and the absolute terror in Danny's face.

Maybe he had seen a ghost, of all the Fenton's Danny was the most terrified of ghosts. Maybe one had tried to hurt him on his way to school today; it was an odd story, but unfortunately a common one.

Perhaps Danny had found himself in the middle of one of Phantom's spectral battles. That could explain the flat tire, and the terror in his eyes. Had Danny contacted one of his parents for help? Lancer shuddered at the thought; those two did more damage than actually help. Phantom and the Red Huntress were much more efficient hunters, it was a shame they were enemies.

What if Danny had gotten hurt and he was hiding it? Lancer wouldn't blame him, he was sure that Mr. and Mrs. Fenton would put him through painful decontamination for just getting a paper cut _near_ a ghost. _So what if he was hurt, Danny wouldn't tell me, I'm just a nosy teacher in his eyes._

Lancer glanced up and found that Danny was in the process of passing a note to his friends. Momentarily ignoring Danny's clear disregard for school rules, he checked over his students features. The boy's face was still flushed bright red from heavy exercise. Danny had gotten the look of terror out of his eyes and was hiding it very well. But he looked so tense and ready to jump up at any given moment. Lancer wasn't sure, but was Danny favoring his left arm a little? It was hard to tell.

Every now and then Danny would glance around the room, not at the clock, as a normal student would. Instead Danny wearily kept an eye on all of the exits, and sometimes he would scan the walls.

_Dragon Spell! What was he so afraid of? And there is that note again! What if I just confiscate it? But no, Danny always somehow managed to erase everything important before I get to it. But that note could explain so much! If he was attacked by a ghost and hurt, then that note would say it! _ Lancer thought it over for a moment and then grinned, he had a plan.

Mr. Lancer picked up a test he was supposed to grade. He could wait.

* * *

Friday, 11:55 a.m.

_BRING!_

The bell had finally rung. Mr. Lancer had watched the entire class period without incident. The note had eventually ended up in Sam Manson's backpack. Perfect. All of his students quickly filed out the door and Mr. Lancer followed. Supposedly to go to the teachers lounge for lunch.

Locking the class door behind him, he followed behind the trio of his strangest students at a distance. At the begging of the year Lancer made sure that all three of their lockers were right across the hall from the teachers lounge. That way there were teachers around to make sure that the lockers weren't mysteriously trashed like they so often had been last year.

Samantha stopped and tossed her backpack into her locker, the other boys following suit. They walked away in the general direction of the cafeteria. Lancer smiled slyly, walking up to her locker.

At first he hesitated, this was against student law. Without probable cause, he could get in a lot of trouble. No, Danny might be in pain, if he didn't look around, the boy may become even more hurt than he was letting on.

Shaking his head, he got out the master key of all lockers. The principle had given him a copy out of trust; well he hoped that had some standing for what he was doing. He turned the key and opened the locker.

It was relatively clean. The locker held very few decorations, a few text books, her backpack and a little photo album at the bottom. He had seen other lockers a lot messier than this, like Paulina Sanchez's that was crudely holding a shrine for Danny Phantom.

Lancer shuddered at such obsessive behavior. It wasn't right, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell that to her. Paulina was known to be very touchy about Phantom. She tended to over react to anyone saying anything about it.

Shaking his head at the memory of Dash Baxter getting vehemently yelled at, he reach in and snagged the note out of Miss Manson's pack. He took one more glance at the locker to make sure everything was in place. Then he saw something he had before just glanced over.

It was a small photo album, he hesitated, but what would be wrong if he just looked in it? Just in case if Danny and his friends were in serious trouble, he picked it up and tried to open it but found that it was locked. _Odd, who locks a photo album?_ Brushing the thought aside, he put it back and shut her locker. All he needed was the note. Lancer's fingers tightened over the scrap paper as he walked back to his classroom. Wondering all the while when he had lost the trust of his students to stoop to this level.

Mr. Lancer sighed as he sat down at his desk. He glanced at what he had taken, no stolen. A corner of his mind was very uneasy about this. _Oh, get it together Lancer! It's just a note! _With that Lancer opened the note to read its content before he decided to duck out.

**Hey Danny, you look scared, what happened? Another one?**

_**Yeah, I got held up after my 'sixth sense' went off with Jazz on the way to school today. You won't believe who it was. I actually thought I was lucky for a moment. Desiree. **_

**You OK? What happened, she isn't that hard to beat. Don't tell me you made some kind of stupid wish! Danny, you KNOW how dangerous that is!**

_**I know, I know, but I had good reason Sam! I had another one of those dreams again! I wanted to know what it was about. Besides, she's gone now, it's just, bad.**_

**How bad? **

**Yeah, Danny, we get that, are you going to tell us why you're shaking?**

_**No, after school, behind the dumpster. Tell Jazz to come too, she should hear this. And, Tuck, I think you should get your PDA ready in case if 'S' comes for 'P' I do NOT want any interruptions. Got it? Good.**_

The note ended. Lancer sat in his desk, puzzled. First, what was the 'another one' for? Was this 'Desiree' one of them? Wasn't Desiree some kind of ghost the Fenton's were briefing the city about in last weeks Ghost Awareness Meeting (GAM)? Who was 'S' and who was 'P'? Why would Tucker need his PDA ready for that? Wishes? What bad dreams was he having? Was Sam implying that Danny was going to 'beat' someone? At what? 'Sixth sense' why did he need quotation marks around that? What did he mean 'sixth sense'? Could this be about a ghost?

Lancer was puzzled. And, to him, there was only one way to figure it out. Lancer always did like a good detective story. And this was only going to get him so far. He should go to the dumpster behind the school today and see if he could catch them in the act. Danny obviously wasn't hurt, but he was up to something that he could get hurt in. The note indicated that pretty well.

William Lancer got up and walked out; he was going to go gather the supplies for the next lesson he was going to teach, and then later he would go to a dumpster behind the school. This time, he was going to find out why Danny Fenton acted so strange, and if he was getting involved with ghosts. Then he would wait. He was always good at waiting.

* * *

Friday, 2:58 p.m.

Sam was scared. She would never admit that she ever got scared, but when things came to Danny, they got complicated. As usual when something weird came up, she would worry for him. But this time…the look in his eyes when he entered class today was just. Scary. Danny was _very_ shaken when he came in late to class today. He managed to get it under control, but she was still worried.

Desiree was a powerful ghost, but Danny could beat her easy. Just wish her into the thermos and he would be done. But Danny would never wish for something important because she often did twist a wish around.

So why did Danny make a big wish like that? He had whispered something at lunch about him wishing to remember his dreams. But she never thought the dreams could get that bad, sure Danny did mention them, but he seemed OK when he did.

Maybe it was a good thing he didn't remember them earlier, maybe the content of the dreams were too much, and his mind would immediately reject it until the next night when his sub-conscious brought it up again. Wow, she was begging to sound _way_ to much like Jazz. She needed a break.

_Maybe Desiree never twisted his wish because if he really did wish for remembering what his dreams were…and his dreams were __**not**__ good. I already know that. How bad are they? Why would he need to be so terrified? He has been jumping at every sound all day. I need to help him. What if that wish was twisted? What if Danny is jumping at shadows because Desiree saw her chance to get back at him? Yes, that has to be it! It's just one of her silly tricks! Danny will be fine! I'm sure…he'll be __**fine**__…_

Sam sighed. She was getting nowhere. Maybe she should ask someone about it. A ghost who knew Desiree could help her. Maybe Doris, she hadn't talked to Doris for a while. And they did become good friends while 'imprisoned' in the Middle Ages together. Or Frostbite even, he always liked Danny, maybe he could help her too.

Sam shook her head, what was she thinking? She promised Danny she wouldn't go into the Ghost Zone alone. They all new it was dangerous, not even Danny went in there alone unless if the situation was die-or. Besides, there would be no point; no one would be able to tell her anything. She would just have to wait until Danny told them what was going on, until then; she would wait patiently for action.

She was good at waiting.

* * *

Friday, 3:22 p.m.

Jazz was cautiously moving behind the school. She turned her head at every corner and looked around. Scanning the area was always a good idea when it came to Danny. Seeing no one, she turned the corner and briskly made her way to the dumpster. Sam and Tucker were already there, they too were looking nervous.

Sam was the first to spot her and she nodded when Jazz walked up, there was no need to talk yet.

Tucker seemed to be busy with his PDA as was normal. He growled suddenly and motioned for Sam to take a look, Jazz leaned over his shoulder for a peek of what was going on. His PDA looked like it had a mini radar screen on it and it had picked something up. Tucker stood and cautiously followed the radar to a little piece of equipment tucked underneath the dumpster.

Jazz sighed, ever since Vlad had become mayor here, he was working harder and harder to keep tabs on Danny. Nothing new, just another listening device for Tucker to deactivate. This needed to be kept secret. Nothing else was in hearing range, but they wouldn't be sure about ghosts in range until Danny came. So they stayed silent.

Sudden laughter made her jump about two feet in the air, "Man, you guys should see your faces right now! You look like you've seen a ghost!" Danny joked.

"DANNY!" The three shouted in unison. Danny appeared right next to Jazz, still laughing softly.

"Not funny Danny, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jazz was laughing when she said it. All caution was no longer needed, Danny had probably already checked for ghosts and humans in the general area, but the schoolyard was empty.

"Oh, come on Jazz. You were ready for a heart attack to hit you! All three of you looked like something was going to come barreling around the corner ready to destroy you all or something. I'm glad I got a picture, this is blackmail gold!" Danny waved a camera above his head. His smile dropped suddenly when the camera was snatched out of his hand courtesy of Sam. "Hey! Sam that was mine!"

Sam smiled sweetly and held it away from him, "Come here and take it ghost-boy. You'll be no match for me, and you know it. But I'll give it to you if you tell us what's going on, that's what we're here for remember?" all the laughter stopped and tension filled the air. Danny frowned, clearly puzzled.

"What do you mean 'what's going on?' I thought we were just meeting back here to go on patrol before we hit the Nasty Burger. It was what we agreed on yesterday."

Jazz frowned, he didn't remember? What happened? "Danny, you OK?" she asked hesitantly. "You told us to meet you here to tell us about your dreams. Sam mentioned something about you making a wish to remember them to Desiree this morning. You looked really shaken by it earlier."

Danny took a step backwards, "Jazz, I haven't fought Desiree for two weeks, what makes you think I did today?"

Sam jumped forward, this wasn't going well. "Your note Danny, the note from class this morning! Here, I have it in my backpack-Reach in and get it out!" she turned around for Danny to open it. He reach forward and searched through it, no note was inside anywhere he could see.

"Uh, Sam, it's not in here. All you have is your books and a few pencils, that's it. No note, I never wrote one this morning."

Sam flung her spider shaped pack off and rummaged through it. "But-but it was right _here_. I looked at it before we went to lunch today, right on top. Where could it have gone?! You were saying something about making a wish about your dreams, Danny! IT'S IN HERE, IT _HAS_ TO BE!!"

Danny backed away, "What dreams Sam? I never remember my dreams. Why would I suddenly want to? That's just silly. Now come on lets go, you're all acting really weird."

Jazz had to step in; the wish he made must have back-fired, and Sam was begging to freak out. Danny seemed to have forgotten he was even having nightmares. They had to help him. Jazz allowed a small smile when she put her hand on her little brother's shoulder, they would have to fix Danny, again. She opened her mouth to speak-

"Mr. Fenton, would you please come with me. We have a lot to discuss young man." Everyone in the group stiffened at Mr. Lancer's voice. Jazz was shocked._ Dear God, how long had been standing there?_

* * *

Friday, 3:23 p.m.

Lancer rounded the corner of the school building. Today had not been a good day for him. In English today he had introduced Shakespeare's The Tempest and had his students start a report on the Renaissance period. By their sheer lack of enthusiasm Lancer wanted to go home.

The Renaissance was one of his favorite times in history. It was a time when people actually cared about and respected literature, a time obviously long gone. Sometimes he wished to live in that time rather than present day, it always seemed so much more interesting. It was the shift from the Dark Ages to a new birth.

Lancer sighed and pulled himself out of his thoughts as he walked around the last corner. He heard a loud "DANNY!" and paused looking around. Just as the note had said, there were the two Fenton kids with Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley. Danny was holding a camera in the air that Sam crept up behind him and snatched. Lancer couldn't hear what they were saying but Danny seemed to whine for it back. Laughter was filling the air around the students. He smiled; they were just a bunch of teenagers being, well, teenagers.

Abruptly all of the laughter stopped and everyone seemed to look at Danny expectantly. Danny quipped something that sounded…confused? Didn't Danny ask them all there? _I need to get closer and hear what they're saying…_

Jazz replied in a worried tone. So much for normal teenagers Lancer wondered in disarray. Danny was taking a step back and Sam turned away from the very confused student. Lancer thought it was because she had suddenly become mad at Danny for some reason, but Danny moved a step forward and began to search through her backpack.

Sam was suddenly slipping it off and looking through it herself, pushing Danny rudely aside. Her voice rose and had a clear under current of panic to it, Lancer finally moved forward to understand their words, but he didn't need to bother, the minor was begging to shout loud enough for the whole world to listen in." -could it have gone?! You were saying something about making a wish about your dreams, Danny! IT'S IN HERE, IT _HAS_ TO BE!" Lancer blinked and felt his face pale. They were talking about the note! If he gave them enough time to think it over they would know someone took it…no longer caring whether or not if he was in the right to take it, he rushed forward so as not to be accused of taking something from a student, even with cause.

No one noticed him advance, so he was able to pull his face together before saying in his most I-am-a-teacher-so-listen-to-me-voice, "Mr. Fenton, would you please come with me. We have a lot to discuss young man." _Like what the heck is going on here. And why you are involving yourself with ghosts._

Lancer was now positive that his student was somehow interacting with spectral beings. When Sam mentioned something about a wish in her panic, he was sure nothing other than a ghost would be able to grant wishes. Maybe it _was_ the ghost talked about in the GAM meeting.

The entire group froze in place when he had spoken; they were all turning slowly to face him with wary eyes. Jazz looked like she was about to have a heart attack, with Tucker and Sam barley able to keep their mouths from hanging open. Lancer was now very suspicious. It was apparent that they thought he had seen or heard something they didn't want him too. But what it was he had no clue. He flicked his eyes to Danny, the one who looked to be in the middle of it all.

Danny was the most composed of the group; he merely looked nervous, but not surprised at Lancer's appearing right behind him. Lancer silently cursed himself for looking at him last. That must have given Danny time, no matter how little, to get his reaction under control. _Way to go Lancer, no wonder you never can relate to your students, you're always looking in the wrong place. _Lancer thought darkly.

"Danny? Come on, let's go, I don't have all day." Lancer stated with as much authority as he could. Danny blinked and took a slow step forward. Lancer was tired of these games. He took hold of Danny's wrist and half dragged him out of the yard. He pretended not to notice when Danny glanced back at his friends with an assuring nod.

Danny picked up his step and walked next to Lancer silently, face tight. Lancer couldn't convince himself to let go of the boy's wrist just yet, for some reason he thought that the contact was the only reason Danny was walking beside him now.

They walked back to his classroom in an uncomfortable silence. Mr. Lancer was busy thinking about what he had seen, the note, and a short briefing about a ghost named Desiree. It was all so confusing, he kept on getting the strange feeling that something big was missing. Some piece to the puzzle that was right in front of him, but he was too blind to see.

When they got to his room Lancer opened the door and released Danny. "Sit." He commanded. Danny went to his normal desk and sat down, looking at Lancer expectantly to begin. Mr. Lancer sighed and shuffled some papers together on his desk for time. How did he begin? Should he just state outright that he had the note, or should he just keep that secret, and not tell Danny anything? But then how was he to justify dragging him all the way to his classroom for no reason?

Lancer was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard a chair scraping. He glanced up to see Danny slowly advancing towards him with an unreadable mask on his face. Lifting an eyebrow Lancer moved in front of his desk and leaned against it, hoping to look slightly less intimidating. Danny moved right in front of him and brought his face mere inches from Lancer's. He had to force himself not to pull away from those shocking blue eyes.

They were too deep, too wise to be the eyes of a fourteen-year-old boy, it was as if those eyes had seen century's of life pass before him with no pause. Lancer stared blankly, his breathing slowed and Danny put a careful hand on his chest, Lancer remembered seeing Danny's blue eyes flash red for a moment before everything went black.

* * *

**Bwahahaha! My very first cliffie! I feel so proud! tears up dramatically anyway, please review! FLAMES WELCOME! I love you all I do!**

**Tell me how I am! For those of you that didn't read my first authors note this is my very first FF! Fresh meat! Yay! Tare (sp?) away at my stories! Are my chappies long enough? Was Lancer IC? I love reading Lancer fics and I couldn't help this one…******** Was Sam IC? I don't think I can do Sam very well, that is probably the last time I try her PoV…**

**This chapter is still pretty short (by my standards anyway) and I want to know if you would like them longer. I just had to stop it here to be evil and give you a cliffie; otherwise, I would have continued. I give extra candy to those who know who 'S' and 'P' are. It was kind of obvious to me but, that's just me…**

**Anyway, Virtual cookies to all of my reviewers! I will have the next chapter up shortly!**


	3. Timing

**Disclaimer: Let me check…darn, I still don't own Danny Phantom. Next time I see Desiree I am going to give her a piece of my mind…**

**Thanks to all of my reviewers: Shining Zephyr, dragon of spirits, TexasDreamer01, cartoon-crazy987, Cordria, inukagome15, and PhantomGirl12. Give yourselves some virtual cookies and milk. ******

* * *

Timing

* * *

Friday, 3:24 p.m.

Danny Fenton quickened his step behind Lancer and caught up next to the overweight teacher, making sure to give an assuring nod to Sam, she looked like she was about to explode into panic mode. He wasn't exactly sure what Sam was talking about, but it looked like Desiree was involved and had somehow managed to wipe his memory.

Danny's features tightened as he walked next to Mr. Lancer, he was remembering the time when Desiree had last erased his memory, and had taken away his ghost powers along with Sam's friendship, or knowledge that he had ever met her. Other than gaining his DP emblem, and learning to use an ecto-blast, he wasn't partial to looking back on completely forgetting such a good friend. In fact, Danny didn't ever want to live without Sam-or Tucker, he added hastily. Tucker was a good friend too.

Trying hard not to break into a blush he yanked himself out of his thoughts as he and Lancer came to the classroom door. Lancer moved in first, and almost regretfully let go of his wrist. Danny hastily made his way to his own desk. He sat down and looked up at Lancer expectantly.

When their eyes met, Lancer sighed and looked down at the papers on his desk. He moved forward and began to organize them into a neater pile.

Suddenly, the room changed. The temperature dropped dramatically and Mr. Lancer had stopped shuffling his papers. Looking around, his ghost sense, too late, went off. "Calm down, Danny. I'm not here to bring harm to you, well that can be debatable but I don't think you would care much for the specifics." A vaguely familiar voice said from behind him. Danny gasped and jumped out of his chair, turning around at the same time. Unfortunately, his foot caught on the chair leg and he fell right into the ghost now in front of him.

Clockwork caught him mid-air and helped Danny get his balance under control. "Clock-_ClockWork_? What are you-what's wrong?" Danny changed his question mid-sentence, noticing the look of utter despair on the ancient ghosts face. Danny glanced around the room, spotting a frozen Lancer at the front, and he felt the familiar weight of a Time Medallion around his neck.

Danny glanced from it to ClockWork, clearly distressed. ClockWork met his gaze sadly, and stated two words. Just two words, but they were enough to knock the breath right out of his lungs, those two words were enough to make Danny's heart freeze in absolute fear. Just two words could change his entire life. Danny stared in dismay as ClockWork said so quietly that he had to strain forward to hear.

"I'm sorry."

"For-for what?" _No, not now, not now. Oh God, please no! Please don't be what I think it is, please! Be just stopping in for a visit-anything, just don't say what I know you're going to say!_

ClockWork looked down apologetically, "I'm sorry Danny, but he exists outside of time now. In what we call a time paradox, an infinite trap of time. He is completely resistant to my power because he technically doesn't exist at all in the time stream. There was no way to stop it. All I could do was prepare you for this day and erase the memory of his feeding off of you for energy. It was all I could do. Danny, I can't touch him, but you can." ClockWork looked up to meet his sad eyes with Danny's own confused ones, ClockWorks' body melting from a young man into an elderly one.

Danny shook his head, the denial evident on the boys' poor features.

"Who?" He whispered softly, looking directly into ClockWorks' broken face.

"Danny, you know who."

Danny shook his head vigorously, "Who?"

Silence. ClockWork morphed into a child.

"WHO?!" Danny shrieked at ClockWorks' scarred and impossibly small face. ClockWork winced.

"Dan, Dan Phantom, as he had always called himself. He could no longer be contained, and I need you to get rid of him. Once and for all, it's the only way." Danny blinked, and sat back down in his chair, obviously slipping into shock.

A few uncomfortable minutes of silence passed-or moments, the clock wasn't exactly ticking so it was more like moments. "What did you mean 'erase my memory of him feeding off of my energy'?" It was an abrupt question, but in Danny's current state of mind, reasonable.

ClockWork sighed, "A certain ghost owed me a favor. She was merely paying up. The dreams your friend Sam was speaking of-they were real. And until 2:58 p.m. today, you remembered them. I specifically asked her to make sure to twist your wish into you forgetting them entirely. The dreams will come back, eventually. But they would be too much for your mind to take right now. You would never be able to finish your task if you had them on your mind. Especially with Dan out and swinging around the time line."

Danny looked confused, "But how was he feeding off of dreams?"

ClockWork shook his head "Not dreams, Danny, nightmares. They were _very_ disturbing to watch. No matter how unlike Dan Phantom that you are, you are still, in a way, connected. You could live without him, but he can't exist without you.

"He could frighten you while you slept and suck up the energy, the fear that you gave off when you were dreaming it. Kind of like a normal ghost would when scaring humans. Except Dan was contained in, and fighting his way out of, a thermos. So the only one he could gather energy from would be you. His 'past'. It was very little, but every time he gave you one of these nightmares, he would allow you to remember all of the others. But when you awakened, he would force the memory away from his mind, and essentially yours. That way you wouldn't know about them until it was too late. Understood?"

Danny shook his head; it made very little sense at all. ClockWork sighed "He scared you in your sleep and fed off of your terror." Danny slowly brightened and nodded understanding. "How you got a passing C in physics will even be a mystery to me, Danny. And I'm the master of all time."

Danny glared lightly, "Last I checked, a 'C' was still a good grade. And besides, no one can get a good grade when it's Lancer talking in that mono-tone voice of his." ClockWork shook his head and chuckled, the educator was pretty dull during the lectures he was giving for the CAT test, other than the occasional shouting of book titles when startled, ClockWork could imagine all too well what it must be like to listen to him every day.

Danny was a little worried about what all was going on, but only one thing mattered right now. Dan was loose in the Ghost Zone, most likely wrecking havoc and could get into the human world at any time. He would need his friends, a plan, and a really good excuse to leave his teacher. Already Danny was beginning to push his fear to the back of his mind, and was focusing on what ClockWork had already told him, questions forming in his mind.

Danny looked up at the morphing ghost, unable to speak for a moment. "Why do you need me for Dan?" -He shuddered a little when saying the name aloud- "And why did you come to get when I was with Lancer here? You know he's about to put me in detention or something worse." Danny paused, a new thought occurring to him, "He doesn't know my secret does he? I was sure he didn't see anything but…" Danny trailed off at ClockWork laughing softly to himself.

"Because Danny," the ancient ghost answered softly, "he is to be your one and only help when you go to find Dan. As for why I need you is because Dan can't destroy you, or he will be destroying himself. No time paradox will take away that fact. Besides, you are probably the only ghost powerful enough and willing to go out after him to where I am going to send you and your teacher. It looks as if William is going to get his little fantasy answered anyway." ClockWorks forever morphing face paused in thought. "And Danny, William Lancer might not know your secret now, but the possibility of him finding out soon is not in your favor. I say you should just break the news to him and tell him everything once you two hit the Middle Ages."

Danny was in shock before, but it was nothing to what he felt like now. First his _teacher_ was supposed to help him fight one of the most evil and dangerous of Danny's foes, but they were going to do it in the _Middle_ _Ages_? Dan _wasn't_ currently attacking the Ghost Zone? How long had he been 'free' from the thermos? Dan wasn't even in this time?! "I-how could-how long has Dan been outside of that thermos, ClockWork?" Danny asked, frantically trying to understand what he was being told.

ClockWork sighed, he opened a viewing portal next to Danny and they both peered inside. The image was soundless but you didn't need sound to know that the thermos twitching and creating cracks all along its surface was making enough noise to wake the dead-if it wasn't already in the Ghost Zone. "This went on for days, mainly at night when Dan was feeding off of you." ClockWork whispered softly.

The image blurred and went into a state of fast-forward. The thermos began to twitch more and more violently in the blurred picture, and Danny was almost sure he could see growing cracks in the sides. The scene slowed, and came back to normal speed. The Fenton Thermos was jumping and lurching, one single crack was bigger than all of the others. It kept on growing, and the thermos stopped suddenly, a green energy beginning to form around the largest crack.

Once more the scene blurred. "That was around four this morning, and this is a little later on the same morning, at approximately 8:25." The picture regained stability and the thermos was laying perfectly still, cracks riddled all along its surface. The largest of witch began to glow with a dull, green light. It gradually got brighter and brighter, until the unnatural light engulfed the whole room. And then it exploded, shards of thermos bursting out into the whole room, and standing in the middle of the room, looking immensely satisfied, stood Dan Phantom. An older and more terrifying version of Danny Phantom, blood red eyes and flaming hair with a Plasmius-like cape fit snuggly onto his shoulders.

Dan grinned evilly in a way that made Danny shudder and unconsciously slip into ghost mode, somehow feeling safer to look down and see that he was still Danny, and not that _thing_ in the picture. Dan whirled around suddenly and stomped up to a row of Time Medallions, snatching three off of the shelf, he left the room with a haunting grin plastered across his face.

The image faded, Danny was about to comment on what he had seen, but a new picture popped up before he could say another word. This was of the castle that the ghost king's sarcophagus was hidden in. Dan was in there, with two other powerful looking ghosts that Danny didn't recognize, staring at something not shown on ClockWork's viewing portal.

The scene widened, only to reveal the Frightnight's pumpkin, and sword called 'The Soul Shredder' sticking out of it proudly. Dan stepped forward, the two ghosts behind him looking nervously at the sarcophagus that Pariah Dark was currently occupying. "This afternoon, 2:58." ClockWork commented quietly. Danny jumped; he had almost forgotten who was sitting next to him. Shaking slightly, he turned back to the viewing portal.

Dan had already released the Frightnight, and they were obviously discussing something. Dan fired up an ecto-blast and shot it directly at the servant without warning, he stalked forward, and Danny watched his alternate future-self pick up a dazed Frightnight and shout in his face. The ghost of Halloween nodded, and was let go. The Frightnight bowed to Dan Phantom, and they all left. The entire exchange was only seconds long.

The image faded and then returned quicker than it had before, showing Dan usher all three ghosts into a time portal before glancing around suspiciously and gliding in after them. This time when the image went, so did the viewing portal. ClockWork shifted slightly to look at Danny, who was looking at where the image of his alternate future had disappeared. Shaking his head, Danny glanced at the ghost next to him. "Why didn't you stop him?"

A hint of a smile found its way to ClockWorks face. In no way did it reach his eyes. "I told you, he exists outside of time now, there was no stopping him. And as for the rest of the questions you are about to ask, I can tell you now that I will not answer them. The reason I allowed those three others in there after him will be explained to you in due time. Anything else?"

Danny concentrated, "Alright, the middle ages, now I guess I know why I have to go now, but what about Lancer here? Why do I have to bring him along to? And, where is Dan at-_when_ is he at?"

ClockWork shifted, and a look of disappointment clouded his features. "The Dark Times was where he left the time stream. After that I could only track him by sight, and I lost him a few minutes later. Being unattached to time, there was no way I could directly pin point him, or his now Medallion-bearing friends."

At Danny's deflated look, ClockWork continued. "I have the year and the general area of where he landed you will have to go in after him. Maybe a few months later than Dan did…As for your teacher," ClockWork gestured elaborately to the frozen man and grinned. "He has enough knowledge of the Dark Times to be of a great help to you. This is no short trip; in order to succeed you must find the one willing to **see**. You will have to correctly insert yourself into society, and you must do so without attracting attention. Dan or otherwise less worrying authority figures of the time."

Danny hesitated, this was not someone he wanted to be angry for asking one too many questions, but he still had a few things that were on his mind. "And the…uh…note that Sam was so worried about? I'm guessing I 'forgot' that too?" ClockWork smiled and walked over to Mr. Lancer's desk, reaching into the teachers pocket; he took out a scrap of paper and held it up. "Ok, that explains where that went, now I have too um…just go now? Can I say goodbye to-" Danny stopped when ClockWork shook his head. "Fine then, let's get this over with, how do you want to get Mr. Lancer to another time? Given a choice I don't believe he'll go willingly."

ClockWork replaced the note in the oblivious teachers' pocket, and moved towards Danny, his form slowly morphing into one that looked exactly like Danny in his human state. "You will have time when you hit the Middle Ages, and don't move, I'll take this out later…" ClockWork pushed his hand onto Danny's medallion and phased it into his chest. Danny repressed a shudder at the feeling. ClockWork somehow had another medallion in his hands and moved off. "That won't kill you, the medallion is made special so it will not harm your insides while human, and it won't matter when you're a ghost either. I will do the same to your teacher, but I have a feeling he will need to see me-or rather you-do this. Invisible now Danny, I'm about to push play."

Danny did as he was told, removing himself from visibility easily, as he was already in ghost form and didn't need to concentrate as hard as he would if human. ClockWork sat down in the chair, positioning himself so that he looked just as Danny did before stopping the clock. With a wicked grin ClockWork, as Danny in disguise said in a commanding voice, "TIME IN!"

The roomed seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, as the clock began to move forward again, and Lancer was still shuffling his papers, oblivious to what had just happened. ClockWork/Danny got up, scratching the chair against the ground as he did so. Lancer glanced up and his eyes locked onto ClockWorks' who stood slowly and advanced forward.

Lancer too moved, he went around his desk and leaned back against it, looking at ClockWork/Danny directly without a desk to interfere with any words to be exchanged. Danny recognized the pose as one of Lancer's typical I-am-here-to-help-stances. He had seen it often enough in detention when trying to speak to the man. It was too bad Lancer didn't glance down at the medallion that materialized in ClockWorks hand. The overweight teacher was transfixed, staring into the ancient ghosts eyes.

Danny mused what the reaction would be to seeing something suddenly appear in your student's hand. Distantly considering how his mind kept on thinking of blackmail so recently. Danny grinned invisibly, and kept his eyes on the scene unfolding before him.

ClockWork made his way to Lancer's face, noses almost touching, ClockWork turned the medallion intangible and placed it _inside_ of Lancer. Lancers eyes widened at seeing something, and then he fainted right on top of Danny's most powerful ally. ClockWork was stronger than he looked; he caught the too large man easily and shifted back into his natural form, scar and all. Holding up the blacked out teacher he floated over to Danny and passed him over.

"I could have done that too ClockWork." Danny remarked suspiciously, taking the fainted teacher in his own hands. Also lifting him over a shoulder with almost no effort, Danny had been able to lift up to two tons once during training with Sam and Tucker, _while_ in human form. Sure, he spent the rest of the week with burses on his arms and having very bad muscle pains. But it was still worth seeing the looks on there faces when he lifted it. Danny smiled faintly; he should have gotten a picture. _That_ was real blackmail gold…

ClockWork shrugged, still on topic. "I like to be the only one handling my medallions. I am a possessive and scary ghost after all." ClockWork wore a sly grin when he said that, looking at Danny knowingly. Danny shrugged and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like an imitation of his fathers ranting.

ClockWork smiled and opened a portal that showed a small village with a large and forbidding castle overshadowing it. "From here on out Danny, you're on your own. I will not be able to help you. All I can say is listen to your teacher and follow your instincts. They will do more for you than you think." Danny's eyes opened wide and his mouth flew open to protest going in there with no help, but ClockWork was already pushing him through the portal. Danny fell in, and the window to his time collapsed behind him. He fell to the ground, dropping his teacher and retreating back to human form.

"Wow, major head rush." Danny glanced down at his itchy and very different clothes before passing out next to his teacher. It looked like ClockWork had put them into the fashion of the time while he wasn't looking.

* * *

Friday, 3:30 p.m. Amity Park

ClockWork sighed when he glanced at the place where a portal had disappeared. _If only Danny new what he was in for. _But ClockWork new better than to interfere further, it was for the best. This was the only way to get rid of Dan permanently without completely altering the timeline. It was just too bad that he had to lie to Danny, when or if this was ever over, he would have to give one very sincere apology to a certain ghost-boy. But until then, he was to wait and watch.

Hopefully he could convince the Observants and their forever cursed ghost-council to give him permission to help Danny further in the future to help make up for what he had just condemned a boy of fourteen to do.

With an almost inaudible sigh, he opened a portal into the Ghost Zone a good distance from his castle. He wanted to get there slowly and procrastinate the ghosts most likely waiting for him in the confines of his lair. He so loathed talking to Observants, and needed time to think up a _very_ convincing excuse. Not that it would matter in the end, but it was always nice to be prepared, especially at a time like this.

* * *

1000AD, Unknown Day, Morning.

"Come on Alan, we must make it to the village before nightfall. No time to loiter, there could be bandits all along this here road. Just waitin' to rob poor hard-workin' lads such as us. Maybe you should have stayed with your mother; we could go back now 'in put you back with your siblings where you'd be more safe." A young man sighed next to his father, quickly finishing the small meat slab that was his breakfast. His father had been rambling on all morning about hurrying up to the village.

Normally, Alan would have complained at his fathers worry, but there was now good reason to fret over such things. The rumors of a new squad of knights from the castle that now ransacked the countryside for fun and terrorized citizens with no mercy had become a little out of hand at the inn his parents ran. Which was why he and his father were even traveling to the village below the castle, nobody was traveling now that a new threat mocked all travelers. Which meant no business, no trade to offer, and the need for supplies was steadily rising. So his father and he traveled, carrying a good wagon-full of hey for trading and a hidden pouch full of coin for supplies.

They had been moving as fast as there one ox driven wagon would allow, and they had passed not one soul on the roads to the village, at first it was taken as a good sign that with no people on the road, there would be no trouble from robbers. But he and his father had grown steadily more frightened at the empty and endless road before them. It was supposed to be one of the most traveled in the land; it was very disturbing to try crossing alone.

Alan and his father, Bray, moved on silently, the day's heat beginning to take its effect on the two travel-worn men. By noon, Alan was ready to die of boredom, nothing but plain empty countryside was in view, and was rather dull too watch after seeing for the past day and a half.

So when a black spot came into view on the edge of his vision far up the road, Alan felt excitement grow inside of him. It probably wasn't much, but it could be something to help relive his boredom. Perhaps it was a dead cow to marvel at for a moment before moving on, or an old abandoned chariot with plenty of coin on the inside to last him for the rest of his life acting as a very rich noble would…

Alan almost ran into his father when the older man stopped abruptly. "Yu see that boy? Up in the road? Could be bandits, or travelers lookin' for a good trade. What do ya think? We can either hide, or approach. I'm more looking for the hiding, these is dark times, dark times…" His father was muttering to himself, as was his habit when in deep thought of something. Alan smiled softly, waiting for the decision his father was sure to make.

Abruptly, Bray shook his head and shouted loud enough for the half-deaf to hear "ONWARD! Come boy, we could be finden new people and we don' want to miss!" Bray rushed forward, quickening his step towards the impossibly far 'people'. Alan smiled slightly, his guess on his fathers choice was correct. He looked onward suspiciously, hoping that his father had actually made a good decision, but he could only wait until they made it to the distant speck to know for sure if it was safe passerby.

Heaving a sigh, he too quickened his step, and encouraged the pathetic one-ox wagon faster. They would reach whatever it was before to long.

* * *

**About a half-hour later…**

Alan looked down at the two figures suspiciously. He was taking note of there simple, yet finely woven clothing. A boy of about his age, sixteen or seventeen considering the height and how well-built he looked.

The man passed out next to him was plump enough to be noble, wearing brown trousers that matched the boys' own. Their shirts were different; the young man had a cream-like colored flowing shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The elder had a dusty grey jacket that was opened to reveal another cream shirt. _These nobles don't have much variety_. He thought dully.

Why they were passed out next to the road he could only guess, but he didn't need to as his father was doing all of the guessing enough for both of them. "Maybe, a wild boar came up in stole all there belongins' and raced off into thu woods to put in his treasure horde! No, that's a dragon that does those things…I know! Maybe a dragon cane up in stoled all their belongins and put it in his horde of treasures! Alan, there could be a treasure dragon about!"

Alan shook his head, and gestured to the ground, there were tracks of no animals near this spot, not even horse or ox trail. His father paid no heed and continued to mutter about myths of all sorts coming to befall death and doom to the world. They had been here for a full five minutes, trying to wake the others up, but to no avail.

Alan smiled faintly; they would have to do something to help. He was sure his father was going to choose to help these people, and therefore only had to wait until his father decided to do just that. Alan decided a little prompting to get him going wouldn't hurt, they still needed to reach the village before dark, and it was only now a distant speck on the horizon.

He stepped forward and knelt down to the younger one, carefully placing his hands underneath him and lifting him up carefully. He turned and carried the boy to the wagon, gently lowering the unconscious teen onto a batch of hay. Marginally surprised as to how light in weight the stranger had been, he turned to his father who was currently scanning the horizon.

Alan walked forward and gently lay a hand on the old man's shoulder. Bray looked at him and Alan smiled softly, pointing to the boy he had put into the cart, Bray glanced at the sleeping boy and nodded. "A fine choice son, we can help these here men, can' leave um for those filthy bandits now can we? Came on, you cun help me lift the heaviyr one onto the cart." With that, Bray stumbled off to the 'bald one' as Alan was now calling him in his mind. They had a lot more of a struggle getting bald one on the cart, he was very heavy in comparison to the boy, but the job was done eventually.

After they had there 'cargo' loaded, Alan hopped into the wagon and perched on the side, looking down at the two strange people. He would wake them later, when they were no longer out cold. His father grunted and got the ox moving again, walking alongside the cart with a travelers' ease. They headed for the speck dotting the other side of the horizon, where a dark castle loomed over a small village.

* * *

**Ok, this chapter is a little late, and I'm sorry. A week since my last update and I'm all mad over it. But this chapter took forever to get all the details in. I never even thought I would bring in an OC, but here I am. Don't ask how I got the name Alan in my head, because it was just kind of there all of a sudden when I was typing this…**

**Anyway, tell me how my writing is, standard questions:**

**Was ClockWork IC?**

**Was it a good idea to capitalize the 'W' in his name, or am I just completely spelling that wrong?**

**Did my OC seem realistic?**

**IS DANNY ACTING THE RIGHT WAY?**

**Thanks so much for reading, reviews are treasured and flames are welcomed, have a beautiful day!**


	4. Awakening

**Alright look, I realize that in the last few chapters I have made a few grammatical errors, but I warn you now that no matter how tempting (and trust me, it **_**is**_** tempting.) I will not be fixing them; I would like to look back on my work to see how I improve for the future. But there was one tiny mistake in the last chapter that affected the story a little, ClockWork had said that Danny was fourteen, when in this story line he is fifteen, my mistake, sorry. I'll edit it when I no longer have the dangerous pull of fixing everything else while I'm at it.**

**Onto the thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers: Shining Zephyr, dragon of spirits, inukagome15, Enray, Pterodactyl, Yugisrose, and Hikari1994! Get yourselves some virtual cookies and milk! Also thanks a billion to inukagome15 and Esme Phantom for helping me on a little research issue that came up in order to get this chapter's facts straight!**

**Disclaimer: Desiree is out of order. I keep on giving her wish coins, but they just keep throwing themselves out of the lamp, so I guess I still don't own Danny Phantom…**

* * *

Awakening

* * *

The Ghost Zone, during the dark times, two months before Danny arrives, time of day unknown.

Dan strolled freely down the darkened hallway, noting the small differences in ClockWork's castle now and how it looked in the future. Personally, Dan wasn't impressed; it looked almost exactly the same, just a bit darker in coloring. "A little redecorating wouldn't kill him. This is to easy to find your way in when you come from different time lines."

"Master, perhaps that was the point. Perhaps the Time Master knew of our coming and did not wish for us to get lost."

"Did I ask for your opinion Valant? Interrupt my thoughts again, and you might just find yourself a pile of ecto-goo on the floor. Am I understood?" A soft whimper came from the weaker ghost walking behind him, Valant's ghostly form morphing into a dog with its ears and head low to the floor. "Be silent, he may hear you." Dan hissed distractedly.

The ghost, Valant, simply trotted lower to the ground, again regretting taking servitude underneath another master's hide. This one was just as irritable as all the others, but much more powerful, and could easily carry out his threats. Valant knew the only reason he was tolerated was because he had the strange power of getting near other ghosts without being sensed, and could hide under the disguise of almost any form.

Dan had made sure of only Valant to come with him for the little visit he had in mind, if Dan was correct, ClockWork would not be able know that either Valant or Dan had invaded his lair until they were right on him because of their advantages. Dan because he didn't exist inside of time, and Valant because of his under-the-radar abilities stretching out to cloak them both. Sneaking up on ClockWork was the only reason Dan even went looking for the ghost who was once a servant under the ghost king.

Pariah Dark. Dan smirked when he thought the name. The entire reason he was still here, the reason ClockWork let him escape outside of the time stream, the reason he could even escape, it all landed on Pariah Dark.

Moving faster through the lair, he went to have a little chat with an 'old friend', he had a future and a throne to secure.

* * *

Dusk, Hillsvillage Road, day unknown.

Alan was slowly begging to panic. It was almost dark, and the village was still at least two hours away. They could've been there by now if they didn't have to haul the extra weight of two more people. Who still, to Bray's bewilderment, hadn't awoken.

The extra people Alan could handle, but staying on the road, at night, with frightening tales of a knight and his party that enjoyed attacking peasants on sight were disturbing enough. There was no way they would make it to the village before the sun went down. That meant camping out, in unfamiliar territory, alone, with invisible dangers of the night swarming all around.

"Alan," Bray whispered with harsh undertone of fear in his voice. "It's gettin' dark. I don't think we can make it to the village by nightfall. I think we migh' need to camp out, and get there in the morn. There isn't no point in stayin out on thu road where we could be easy prey to whatever befalls us. What 'bout you?" Alan nodded, pointing to yet another cleared out area next to the road that was once a camp site for some long-gone traveler. "Well, I guess we could go there Alan, you sure it safe to be stayin' at?"

Alan didn't feel a need to respond; instead he walked forward and snagged the oxen's lead rope out of Bray's hand, tugging it to the small clearing beside the road. "Yu know, Alan. I don't think I appreciate all this silence from ya. I thought this was gonna be a nice father son trip, an' you still aren't talking. Are you sure you're alright to keep going?"

Alan took the pack off of his back and began setting things out for a fire, nodding to Bray as reassurance. "Alan, you know as well as I that that fever you had could have taken your voice away for good, and now you got it back, you've got to use it boy!"

Alan unhitched the cart from the ox, casting a sideways glance at Bray with a little amusement in his eyes. "I feel fine father, I haven't lost my voice, I just don't feel as though there is a need to speak all the time, seeing as on such a dangerous road, someone could hear us talking and find us defenseless people."

Alan knew very well that he had gotten to Bray with that. Successfully changing topic once again away from how little he spoke up. Alan went back to setting up camp, his mind pondering on why Bray so insisted on milking as much words out of him as he could each day. It was quite annoying, really, but understandable.

While he was sick, his throat had swollen to the point where could not talk, and could barley swallow, his father had never really gotten over the emotional trauma of seeing his only son half-dead in front of him and not being able to tell anyone what's wrong. Alan himself was well over the sickness, and found that he preferred watching and listening to making himself known with loud shouts and comments.

"Well, Alan, I guess it's a good idea to stay silent then this time," Bray was whispering a little loudly, but at least he was whispering instead of using his normal over-zealous voice, "but if we're gonna whisper, how are we supposed to wake up our guests huh?"

Alan smiled wickedly, grabbing a bucket and carrying it over to the little stream that flowed next to the road. Bray frowned and followed his son to the waters edge and back to the camp. "Now hold on a minute son! You can't do that, they could be noble! A noble would chop off the head of a commoner for waken um up like that!"

Alan looked back at Bray, hovering over the ox cart, bucket in hand. Alan's pleading look was met by Bray's stern one, and the boy deflated quickly setting the bucket on the ground, pretending for the life of him that he was depressed beyond repair. Bray huffed a reluctant sigh of defeat, knowing full well that his son would keep up the act all night if he had to. "All righ', dump your load on um."

Alan jumped up and snagged the pail, readily preparing to pour it on the heads of the two in the cart. "Wait!" Suppressing a groan, Alan once more turned around to face his father. "Don't look at me like that, I was just thinking that the bigger one was probably the more powerful and merciless noble ready an' willin' to chop our heads off the moment you douse him. I can't let me only son take that risk."

Alan held onto the bucket, unsure of what to do now, but Bray continued as if the entire world depended on his words, patting his pudgy belly for emphasis, "Don't start that little act 'gain boy, I was just thinking that if we only got the littler one to wake up, then he could wake the man for us and we would be saved from the stockades is all."

Another wolf-like grin crossed Alan's face, and he set down the pail, both hands moving quickly underneath the sleeping teen and lifting him up off the cart to be slowly lowered to the ground. "He heavy at all, Alan?"

"No, he seems to be really light-weight for some reason or another. He could just be the noble's traveling servant, never thought of that. It would explain why he's so light though, maybe not enough food."

"Don't know Alan, he looks pretty well built, the boy's got muscles on his arms, if not much meat to him, he looks strong an' healthy. Why would he be light?" Alan shrugged, he was wondering that to, but it really wasn't his place to question it. _Oh, well I'll know soon when I ask after he wakes up; I hope this does wake him up. What should it matter anyway? Wouldn't it be more important to know why he was knocked out by the side of a road instead of how often he was fed? _Alan shook the dirty blond hair out of his brown eyes; sometimes he really _was_ too curious for his own good.

Grinning once more, he lifted up the pail of water, finally able to do what he had been wanting to all day. "Wait!" Alan paused, debating weather or not to do it anyways, reluctantly, he turned around and looked at his father, not even bothering to cover his annoyance at being stopped for the third time.

"Don' look at me like tha' Alan. I was just thinkin' that maybe we should start the fire going before we soak him with cold water. If he is noble, 'in at least have a source a heat near by so he won't git to mad and tell his friend in the cart to lock us in the stockades."

"Father?"

"Yeah, Alan?"

"The stockades threat is starting to get old."

Bray shook his head, "Caution is something you got to keep wit ya nowadays, no matter how silly it is. So git that fire going before it gets too dark." Alan nodded meekly, and collected some wood out of the wagon.

* * *

? ? ?

Danny was running.

He couldn't see why, he just had to keep going. Terror edged into his heart and he pushed himself faster.

The world was a black and senseless blur around him. His body ached in ways he didn't know were possible. The muscles in his legs were screaming for a break, to stop and lay down for just a little while. He didn't pay them any attention. He had to keep moving, _they_ were in danger.

A light popped up in front of him; no it was a building, far in the distance. _I can make it! _Danny ran faster, energy from God-knows-where pumping through his veins. He drew closer to the shapeless building, his proximity revealing it to be nothing more than a large boiler holding his family, friends, and teacher captive.

Desperate and wild hope filled him when he saw their fear-filled faces. _Almost there, I can make it, I can make it, I can make-why is the ground trembling? It doesn't matter, almost there…_

The boiler's somber white turned into a fiery red, Danny was so close, he could feel the heat rolling off of it in waves, waves that tried to slow him down, push him back. Danny roared and pushed his legs harder to keep moving. The ground was against him, its small tremble turning into a full scale quake, almost as if it were trying to push him down. Danny swayed, but kept running.

The heat was so much, the ground so impossible, smoke was filling the air around him, he couldn't see, couldn't breathe, Danny's feet wavered, but he forced himself not to fall to the ground. He had to move, he was almost there.

Danny's senses blurred, the smoke filling his head, pain swirled through every muscle, every joint. "Almost…there…almost…there…keep…moving, just…keep," the world slowed, and Danny fell to his knees, no longer able to ignore the intense burning around him. He closed his eyes, wishing it all to stop, the pain, the fire, time. It all just needed to stop.

And amazingly, by some miracle, it did.

Danny's labored heart slowly went back to normal speeds. Stopping all movement, he focused on breathing and clearing his mind. Why was he running? A picture flashed into his brain, family, friends, Lancer…why was he running to them? A boiler, heat, going to blow up, death, impossible heat, death, ground shaking, death…

Danny's head shot up, looking around at the smoke screen that surrounded him. It was a wall of grey; he could make nothing out through it. "Hello? Mom? Dad? Sam? Tucker?" the words echoed around him, no response. "Jazz, you out there?"

Danny pushed himself to his feet, glancing all around him, there was no movement, no sound, all of his senses were on high alert, but there was nothing for him to percept. Almost like the world was suddenly empty, not of just people, but everything.

No animals, no bugs, not even the sound of fire burning, everything was so, so _dead_. Not even the smoke was alive; it stayed in one place, not swirling around or being pushed by invisible wind.

Finally, the world around him was transforming, the smoke was changing color. Instead of a bleak, dull gray, it intensified, changing into a pure white. Not a blinding light, but like you where being encompassed in an infinite white room.

Before Danny could even register what happened, everything around him became white, nothing was spared, the realness of what was left from the scene was abandoned for white expanses of nothing. At the moment Danny saw this, he felt completely alone, it was all just so…off. What had happened? What had changed a nightmare into this…this place?

"Nothing has happened."

Danny spun around after hearing the disembodied voice, looking around frantically for whoever it was. "Where are you?" Danny asked suspiciously.

"I am Nowhere. Where are you?"

Danny hesitated, glancing around at the nothingness around him, "You tell me. Where am I?"

"Nowhere."

"Where is 'nowhere'?"

"Nowhere is Nowhere."

Danny looked around in confusion, and slight annoyance, whoever it was wasn't answering anything. "How can I be nowhere when I know I'm somewhere? I have to be somewhere to be here don't I?"

"You could not be here and be in Nowhere. It happens to many when they are lost."

"But I'm not lost." Replied a steadily frustrated Danny.

"Then why do you ask where you are if you know where you are and are not lost?"

_Great, now it's just playing with me. Well Fenton, might as well play along. _"Who are you?"

"I am Noone. Who are you?"

_Noone? You're kidding. That's not a name, he's playing with me._

"Indeed I am 'playing with you' but I do not lie, I am Noone, and who are you?" 'Noone' asked again.

"Hey! Don't read my thoughts!"

"Then do not think."

Danny glared about him, "How can I not think? I may not be the smartest guy in the bunch, but that doesn't mean I can turn off my brain and not think," Danny lifted his chin in one of his signature 'pun-poses', as Tucker called it. "Well, not without any video games, lots and lots of mindless video games."

Noone was silent, presumably still waiting for Danny to answer his initial question. Danny was about to put in another off-topic sarcastic quip, but when he opened his mouth to speak, no words could form from his throat. He glanced down in confusion, his lips were moving, but not a sound came out. "_What the heck is going on? Hello? What did you do to my voice?! How come I'm not talking? Hello? Answer me!"_

"Sorry, but I can't hear you. And I can't address you either, No-name. Perhaps that is what I shall call you 'No-name' not bad. What do you think? Never mind, there is no need to bother, you can't answer me anyway, No-name." Noone leered at Danny.

"My name is Danny. Not No-name. Danny, D-A-N-N-Y Danny." Danny inwardly kicked himself for taking such obvious bait, but he tried hard not to show it on his face. Not that it was really going to make a difference if this thing could read his thoughts anyway.

"Can I get a definition please?" Danny glared at the white expanse surrounding him, willing his look to reach the unknown person that was hidden inside.

"No, you can't. What do you want with me?" he blurted out hurriedly.

"Ah, the million dollar question arrives," the voice sighed, "to bad I can't afford it! See you behind your eyes next time D-A-N-N-Y Danny!"

"Wait, what are you-" The world of white began to recede, color flickering on the edges of his vision. "Wait! Come back!" black overcame his sights and cold swept over his body, making a shiver rip through him. "Wait." he whispered softly under his breath…

* * *

Middle Ages, sundown, the camp site

Danny awoke, still shivering from the cold and feeling himself completely drenched in what had to be sweat. Danny looked down towards his wet body in confusion, at first not recognizing the itchy fabrics covering his person.

When memory flooded back into his mind Danny groaned and slammed his head backwards onto the ground. "Sorry friend. Me son 'ad to git ya wet in order for you tu open them pretty blue eyes you got there." Danny heard a laugh come from the speaker, "Took a few pails to get you fully awake though. I aint never seen somethin' that sleeps as heavily as you. You migh' wanna get your friend up though, fur courtesy's sake we only wanted to drench one of you."

Danny glanced in the relative direction of the voice, squinting past a well-fed fire to a boldly grinning squat man with burly arms and rugged mousy hair. Two pairs of brown eyes were looking him over in a way that made him feel like some sort of animal.

The boy sitting next to the speaker stood, pushing dirty-blonde hair out of his eyes and grinned at Danny sheepishly. "Father, I think he's alright with us dousing him in water," _So that's why I'm wet, guess I wasn't sweating after all,_ Danny mused silently. "My name is Alan fine sir, and this is my father, Bray. We are travelers on the road to the village up by the castle. We came upon you and your companion on the side of the road. Deciding it would be wrong to just leave you there, we carried you along with us on our humble journey."

Danny blinked in confusion, not so much because he was apparently picked by passing _strangers_, but because the kid that looked older then him was using so much formality in his tone. "Yu allrigh' boy, or are you as quiet as Alan likes to be most the time?" Danny turned back to the stout man, Bray as he was introduced.

"I…yeah, I'm fine. Um…where did you find me at exactly, my memory is shot." Bray looked confused Danny was almost positive he heard him murmur '_Shot?'_ under his breath.

As Bray preoccupied himself with what had already been said, Alan answered Danny. "Well sir, we found you a few hours back up the road, we aren't to far from the village now, won't even take us all morning to get there. That is, if you don't mind walking at all."

Alan grinned full heartedly at Danny, who did the same in response. To Alan the smile felt fake, somehow. Danny dropped his grin and searched around the site for Mr. Lancer, his eyes lighted upon a wagon-cart type thing. It was overflowing with hay and had a poorly fed ox nibbling at the sides. What caught Danny's attention was the figure of a man sprawled out on top of the hay.

"I don't think that my…traveling companion will like it if I wake him up with so many strange people around, would you mind if I had some time…alone with him?" Danny asked hesitantly.

The older man, Bray, jumped up readily and practically shouted that it was no problem at all and dragged his son out of the camp. _That was weird. _Danny thought, watching as the two moved to the farthest edge of the light, out of earshot.

Sighing, Danny stood up and stretched his cramped muscles. He made his way over to the wagon slowly, thinking hard on a good excuse. He had one that would seem at least slightly believable by the time he made it to the cart.

It took a few minutes to wake Lancer up, he had tried shaking him, yelling at him, and even tried slapping the man. In the end, Danny had to resort to shocking him with his powers for a second or two. Lancer's back arched and he shot up instantly. The overweight teacher looked around, taking in Danny, the campfire, the skinny ox, and the two hovering people just on the edge of light. "MERLINS BEIRD! Where am I?!"

"Shh, Lancer I can explain. Calm down, I don't want them to hear you." Lancer looked at Danny with wide eyes, he opened his mouth to probably scream again, but Danny quickly covered it with his hand, ignoring the slight amount of saliva that touched him. "Lancer please, hear me out." Danny waited until Lancer nodded, removing his hand and wiping it unceremoniously on his shirt. Danny came out with his explanation.

"While we were in detention, a ghost came and knocked you out. Do you remember that?"

Lancer shuddered, "You walked toward me and you're eyes flashed red. That's what I remember. I didn't see a ghost."

Danny quickly covered up, "That's because I was…overshadowed! Yes, and then the ghost came up and took you and knocked you out and then while still in my body it…uh…opened a portal. We went into the ghost zone and the ghost opened another portal and threw us in here for its revenge on…teachers and students alike for staying after school."

"Why would it do that? And how would you remember being overshadowed in the first place?"

_Think fast, Fenton. _Danny scurried to come up with a good answer_ I could always tell him the truth…no bad idea. ClockWork hinted that there was a possibility that I could keep my secret through this, and that is what I am going to do. _"It was a janitor ghost…and the janitor ghost didn't like it when we…stayed after school late for detention? The reason I remember being overshadowed is because…my dad came up with a new training technique to stop a ghost from overshadowing your mind! But I wasn't trained all the way so…I could only see what happened while I was overshadowed and…remember it when the ghost left? Yes, that is exactly what happened."

Lancer looked skeptical, but he wasn't interrupting, so Danny took that as a sign to continue, "You see the…janitor threw us into another ghost portal in the ghost zone that put us in a different time and place. We could seriously mess up the time line if we don't act cool and keep anyone from knowing where and when we are from. I think that…we were put in the Middle Ages. At least that's what it _looks_ like.

"The two guys back behind me are traveling the road they found us on and…well I really don't know much more then that their names are Bray, for the older one, and Alan, his son. They're traveling to a village underneath a castle, and that Alan person keeps talking to me in this funny, formal way."

Danny brought in a big breath, waiting for Lancer to start screaming or run away. Surprisingly, he only struggled off of the wagon and smiled at Danny. The overweight teacher walked to the men edging nearer to the fire. He smiled, again, bowed and held a hand to his chest. "My name is Sir William Lancer. It is a pleasure to meet you during these times. This is my student, Daniel Fenton, fifteen. I believe you have already met."

Bray nervously stepped forward and repeated the same gesture, introducing himself and Alan, Danny wasn't much surprised to find Alan was seventeen. The exchange finished, Bray and Alan moved to the fire and were producing some kind of animal meat for cooking. Lancer moved back to Danny, whispering that they would talk more about it later, in private.

Danny couldn't help but stare in shock, realizing that this is some of what ClockWork meant by saying Lancer knew enough of the 'Dark Times' to keep them alive. With a sigh, Danny followed suit with Lancer, sitting down next to him and exchanging a bit of conversation with the two who were kind enough to help them on the side of the road without any guarantee they would get anything in return.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**Few! That took me forever to get! The last few pages were torture and I'm still not proud of it, but you guys needed an update, so I gave it to you! **

**A little bit of questions about my writing:**

**1. Is the plot realistic, predictable, is it fitting your standards for a well-written fic?**

**2. Is my writing style confusing, or is it ok?**

**3. Do I have any grammar or spelling errors?**

**4, If yes on question three, could you point them out?**

**5. Was everyone IC? If no, who wasn't in character?**

**That's all my questions for now, but I'll keep you posted! Please review, they are good for the soul and writers motivation! Flamers are welcome!**

**Catalyst**


	5. Knight

**I know, it's been a while. Heh, sorry, MAJOR writers block. I have been getting this feeling to write…but all I could come up with were plot bunnies, until today when they all disappeared and gave me room to write out this chapter! That whole thing with writing out your plot bunnies really does help…**

**Thanks to my reviewers (I love you guys!): inukagome15, Thunderstorm101, Dannyphantomfn2, thriefty, Moonlite Knight, Enray, Artgirl4,** **dizappearingirl, Miriam1, and Garnet Sky****! (Just to let you people know, anonymous reviews are so welcome!)**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Danny Phantom! –Crickets chirp in background- Darn, I was so sure it would work…I'll have to look for some loopholes to the whole 'wishes I can't grant' thing with Desiree. Meanwhile, I don't own Danny Phantom.**

* * *

"_Psst_."

Silence.

"_Psst_."

Nothing.

"_Danny! Wake up!_"

He shot off the cot like a rocket, "Huh, wha-where da ghost?" Danny spun around in confusion. When he realized where he was, and that Lancer's shoulders were shaking violently in suppressed laughter, he blushed and lowered himself back to the ground.

Lancer grinned, but didn't say a word. Instead the teacher decided to play lead, he got off of his own cot—a mere pile of hay with a blanket separating him from the itchy stalks, all the poor innkeeper could spare them—and motioned Danny to follow.

Confused, the teen trailed behind Lancer into a stand of trees, out of hearing range of their hosts. When the light of the dim coals barley gave sight to Lancer's eyes, he stopped and turned to face Danny.

Lancer took a deep breath; he hadn't slept at all, instead staying up thinking. And the more he thought, the more things didn't make sense. Something seemed so off about Danny's story, a janitor ghost threw them _through_ time? Into the middle ages—on a deserted road to a frightening castle he had never heard of?

He had a history major once for crying out loud! Sure, he had to drop the class due to financial issues, but he still learned enough to understand that things were very wrong with this picture.

From what Danny said, and listening to Bray's story about the roads and problems with his business—which he shouldn't even be able to because during this time period the people spoke something called Anglo-Saxon—and there was no way either he or Danny would be able to understand most of it, things weren't right.

But, from what he could tell (not counting Bray's heavy accent and the absence of teen 'slang' from Alan) the two natives were speaking perfect, _modern_ English. A chronological impossibility.

Unless if there happened to be something wrong with these two people specifically, but the coincidence of them running into the only ones who speak like that in the entire world are slim. And they never commented on how _he_ spoke differently.

Lancer looked into his students eyes, forcing himself out of the trivial thoughts, he had to address his issues one at a time, and the language of this period could wait. "Danny." Lancer whispered to his sleep deprived student.

The half-asleep teen jumped a little, almost as if that glazed-over look on his face meant he was _napping_ while standing and keeping his eyes opened…Lancer had to give the boy some credit, that must take some measure of practiced skill. Danny blinked and shook his head as if to clear it, "Why are we standing in the cold Mr. Lancer? If you wanted to talk to me we could have whispered by the fire where it's _warm_."

Lancer's lip twitched, "And let you feel all cozy and your memory fade from such a comfortable position? Come now Danny, I'm a teacher, and I know for a fact students are sharper when they aren't as perfectly warm as they would like to be."

Danny retorted with an eye roll, "Oh yeah, Mrs. Spectra _definitely_ demonstrated that pretty well."

Lancer winced at the disastrous memory, never before had Casper High gone through such a dreadful spirit week as that. "I'm not saying that students learn better when the temperature is below freezing, just cold enough to keep you from falling asleep on your desks." Lancer frowned, "Although it didn't seem to slow _you_ down."

Lancer got a sheepish grin in reply. "It's still cold out here Mr. Lancer, so can we make it fast?" As if to prove the coolness of the atmosphere, Danny shivered.

The teen's eyes widened worriedly as Lancer began to speak, "Danny, I know this may seem odd to you, but I think that something is very off with this place. The languages and the area, the castle I've never heard of, and—"

"Oh tha-that's great Mr. Lancer, why don't you go back to camp and get something to drink, I'm thirsty!"

Lancer, startled, stood frozen for a moment and Danny tugged on him. With strength such a scrawny boy shouldn't be able to posses; he tugged Lancer through the small stand of trees, easily avoiding any of the natural bumps or roots that slowed Lancer down. They were almost to the edge of the clearing when Lancer snapped out of it.

Grounding his heals in, Lancer stopped and pulled back, "Mr. Fenton what is the matter with you! We'll wake up the others! Why the sudden change in—hummphsjenkelgrenden!"

William Lancer struggled with the restraining hand over his mouth and attempted vainly to yank it off. "Mr. Lancer, please, be quiet. _Listen_."

Pausing in his assault, he cocked an ear to the west, as Danny was doing. That's when he heard the steady pounding of hooves. The teacher's eyes widened; and fear crashed through his senses.

The innkeeper had warned them about the knights—currently the only few who had warhorses, warhorses that were racing at full speed in the direction of the campsite.

Only when he realized what it was that Danny dropped his hand, and again wiped it on his shirt to clear off the saliva. "The others." Lancer whispered hoarsely, trying to take a step to them, only to be yanked backward by Danny.

"It's too late, we weren't fast enough," Danny hissed, "get down and stay down. Remember that we aren't from this time Lancer, if they find us, we can mess up the entire time continuum."

Fighting an internal battle for what's right and what's common sense, Danny helped Lancer fall to his knees and they peered through the underbrush.

Lancer watched, horrified as one of the masked knights jumped off of his horse and kicked Bray—hard—in the stomach. Another knight hopped from his own and viciously grabbed poor Alan by the collar and yanked him up. Lancer saw Danny wince when the boy yelped.

Bray—somehow just now waking from the steel-toed pain cried out and muttered a curse when seeing that he and his son were surrounded by fifteen or so mounted men.

In a clear, almost familiar voice, the lead knight called from his black mare, "You, peasant, where are your papers?"

"P-pa-papers?" Bray asked, now fully awake and standing up to face the crowed.

"No papers?" The leader mocked, obvious delight in his tone.

Bray looked confused, "Since when does an innkeeper and his son need any papers for takin' a short trip to the village an' back on supply run?"

The knight laughed. "I'll take that as a 'No.' _trespasser_."

Bray started, his slower mind obviously working frantically to think of something to say. "Trespasser?" he asked stupidly.

The knight laughed again, "You're trespassing on the counts' lands and without any papers issued by him, _you_ aren't allowed to be here. As such I have right to take you in as prisoner, and confiscate your items as evidence of this crime."

Bray really looked confused now. "But…I was informed that the count died, and that the king was sending in an emissary to take over his job till the proper heir was old enough to lead."

The knight shifted on his horse, "Have you gotten no news? A heir _was _discovered, but as it turns out the count's son was a mere bastard child and not allowed the throne. A new leader has been named, and you're trespassing on his land. Surely if you were the innkeeper you say you are you would have heard this. Because you have not," Lancer could feel the sinister grin behind the helmet as the lead horseman said his next words, "I am going to have to take your claim as lie. How am I to know if you have come to spy on my leader? For being a traitor, I am taking you, and your 'son' to the slave holding."

"Slave holding!" Alan blurted out. "What, sir, I beg you, there has never been a slave holding near here. And even if so, I can assure you we are free men, come from the inn on Hillsvillage Road, we were just coming to Hillsvillage for trade—"

"Ha! Boy, you have just now given me evidence of your treachery." The lead knight signaled to a few others, and two horsemen came down to assist the others in holding their new prisoners.

"What?" Alan squeaked.

The knight, his voice piercing the night air filled Lancers' heart with dread, "The Hillsvillage Inn has been accused of housing rebellious groups and was burned down for its deception under the counts' orders."

Bray cried out painfully. "My family, please sir! What has become of my wife?! My daughters?!"

Lancers heart sank to the ground, and his throat tightened in pity. He could almost feel the burning of the leader's eyes as he turned to survey Bray. When the knight's voice came out, his tone was cheery, like he was speaking of the weather and not the fate of a man's family.

"You're wife and daughters were quite attractive. My men put them to good use for the foot soldiers training in the castle." A moment of silence fell over them, and Lancer saw the tears overflowing Alan's face.

Bray was impassive. Seconds ticked by, but he didn't move.

Finally the leader gave a signal to the men, and began to turn his horse away. Bray snapped forward with amazing agility for such a bulky man, "YOU DARE TOUCHED MY WIFE! I'LL KILL YOU DAMN IT!" Bray ran head on to the horse, screaming wordlessly, and yanked at the leader's boot, trying to fell him in order to reach the warriors face.

The mare reared up, and screaming galloped sideways, turned around sharply, and charged for Bray.

The rider, almost lazily turned his mount just in time not to trample the enraged commoner. By then the other two on foot had made it to Bray; and were struggling to get him tied.

They finally just tackled him and roped him down. Bray still screamed in furry, but it was dying down. He couldn't fight, not professional warriors like this. When Bray was heaved to his feet he had been reduced to glaring and allowing frustrated tears escape his eyes.

The leader loped around easily and stopped in front of the desperate man. "Just for that, you'll be working on the inner gates, in the tannery where my men can keep a close eye on you," Again, the air filled with the laughter of one man, "and you're son will work in the village, as a polisher for my armor."

Bray looked down. "You know what an armor polisher does? They sit in a dark room all day for hours on end, trying to clean that one little smudge that got on my mail. You're son will only be seeing the sun through it's reflection on the moon. You hear me?

"And you'll be working in the stink of the tanneries. If you're kin women ever lay eyes on you, they'll want to cover their noses and run back to the men's barracks to stay away from your stench," The leader motioned his hand and Bray was tied behind another mount, he wasn't even going to be allowed to ride the long distance to the castle, "Don't worry though. I'm sure my soldiers will keep good care of your woman."

He laughed again and the group moved out, Bray and Alan had to run to keep up with the fast pace of the horses they were tied to. Alan looked back one time, as if seeking them in the trees, but seeing nothing. He faced forward and the odd procession disappeared out of reach from the firelight.

Lancer and Danny didn't move for an hour, or maybe only minutes went by, the light didn't change so there was no telling for sure. But Lancer did know he was the first to move, his hands shaking, he walked into the clearing and looked around. The knights had taken the ox, and there was an empty bag that Lancer assumed used to carry some form of currency. Now empty.

"Not much here." Lancer commented, stooping to pick up a blanket that had been slightly trampled by a horse but was still good.

Not hearing a reply, he turned to face Danny. The teen hadn't moved.

Lancer took a cautious step forward, "Danny." He stated gently. No response. Lancer moved all the way to where the boy still sat, he could barley catch the refection of waterworks in the dying light.

"Danny," Lancer tried again, "They're going to come back Danny. We have to move." Gently Lancer took the boy's arm and lifted him up, taking Danny to the remaining embers.

There Danny sat while Lancer collected leftover food, a pot, utensils, and whatever else he deemed useful and bundled up into their little blanket. When he was finished, he grabbed another blanket and began to divide up who should carry what.

Wordlessly, Danny snatched both bundles and slung them over his shoulder, moving in the direction off the castle, but off of the road and through the trees, he set off. Lancer shrugged, if Danny wasn't going to talk yet (he wouldn't blame the boy, as Danny must be completely shocked by what was just witnessed, as Lancer himself seemed to be).

Lancer knew the Dark Ages were harsh…but the reality of it seemed so much worse. Trying hard to keep up with his student's fast pace (which was odd, considering the burden Danny carried, Lancer passed it off to adrenaline working over-time) they moved swiftly into the night.

* * *

Dawn, Outside of Hillsvillage

"Danny." Lancer tried again, although Danny was yet to say a word, in the recent hours where the sky began to brighten, Lancer could swear he caught his student nodding or giving a small smile while Lancer rambled on; about his life, theories as to what really was going on here, how they got into this itchy clothing, silly stories he'd heard in his lifetime, old ghost stories that had gotten around before he went to Amity, skirmishes he had with actual ghosts (Danny seemed to enjoy ghost stories, especially the old ones that made no sense when you compare it to Amity's daily troubles), and about his daily troubles with rebellious students, ect.

"So…" Lancer mainly tried avoiding what they had seen just hours ago, but the thought had been nagging on him for so long, he needed it discussed. "It looks like we're going to the castle Danny," Danny nodded, "What about what you said, about messing up the space time continuum?"

Danny stopped short, and looked Lancer full on. "Screw history." With that, Danny shifted his packs (that he amazingly hadn't dropped from sheer exhaustion) and lumbered on.

"That wasn't very helpful." Lancer muttered to himself, but followed Danny nonetheless.

Panting, Lancer heaved his overweight form over another rock. That was something else as well; Danny at first seemed to be going on pure adrenaline. But Lancer had never seen adrenaline last out this long, especially when his student wasn't even breaking a sweat.

This was Danny Fenton he was seeing, and yet _not_. Danny walked easily through the forest (even in the pitch-dark, he never tripped on one root, Lancer had lost count of how many times he stubbed a toe, fell down, or felt his shin bone meet something painfully hard) and Danny was carrying a heavy pack (that Lancer offered to carry but was denied numerous times by angry glares) and the boy looked like he could do it all day.

Danny had gotten, what two hours of sleep? Lancer wondered how on Earth anyone could _do_ that.

Lancer slowed down progress tremendously, he understood why Danny wanted to stay clear of the roads, but plant life around here was impossible to struggle through…and he did cave to asking for a break or two, or six while they went.

The castle was just now getting really close and the village that lie beneath, perhaps a good fifteen minute walk away. When Lancer estimated this, he called Danny back for another break, plopping down gratefully with a happy sigh.

Danny, annoyed, frowned at Lancer. Lancer smiled, "I know we aren't too far, but I just thought we could use a little time out before we get to the village."

Danny nodded curtly and sat on a rock, finally allowing his muscles to relax, just a little, before they went anywhere. "We're going to need a game plan on how to get past that." Danny stated simply, nodding to the busy village where little specks of people moved around at there own paces.

Lancer nodded slowly, "How about we sleep first? I'm so tired right now…"

"Or you could all show us some identification." Lancer jumped and Danny sprung to his feet, spinning around to meet the faces of six men (none on horses, and none were recognized from the night before, although Lancer thought it was hard to tell, he could only clearly recall the masked leader).

The one who had spoken first had a hard, brittle face, he held out a hand. "Identification."

Danny glared, but Lancer wasn't going to give the vengeful teen room to talk, he said the first thing that came to mind. "We forgot them."

The captain of the group smirked, "Oh? I haven't seen you before, and I clearly remember _issuing_ the ID's. If you had one, do you not think I would have remembered you?"

Lancer frowned at the idiotic and obvious mistake he watches his own students make on a daily basis…he could have come up with a better excuse then _that_.

The man grinned fiercely; Lancer had to think…were all of these authority men so violent? The captain waved his hand—the same gesture the lead horseman had made for Alain and Bray's capture—and four of the six soldiers came forward.

Danny moved next to Lancer, and tightly squeezed the older teacher's shoulder. Almost like a signal to stand down…did Danny want to be captured? Was he recklessly trying to sneak into the village this way?

Although Lancer didn't think Danny was looking ahead very well, how were prisoners going to help prisoners? His student's decision didn't seem like a good idea, but how were they to fight off trained soldiers?

Lancer had never been interested in karate.

They surrounded Lancer and Danny, using spear hilts to push them forward, and Lancer was herded in the direction of the village.

The captain blabbered on about law—all of which seemed as far fetched as Shakespeare's laws that were incorporated into his comedies. Danny marched on, ignoring everyone, his eyes locked on their destination.

Lancer just hoped Danny knew what he was doing…and wondered since when he started entrusting his own life to his clumsiest student. Or if he ever had much of a choice in the matter.

* * *

**-cheers erupt in background- I updated! AND I have a detailed outline written for the next chapter (which is odd…I thought I was against using outlines). My updates are guaranteed to become regular now!**

**So expect another chapter (not nearly as short as this one) soon!**

**I put questions up here to make reviewing easier, if you have no liking to questions, it doesn't mean you must answer them in a review! They're here to help you (and me) but I still don't mind those short little "OMG! UPDATE!"'s every once in a while…XD**

**1. Character alignment? How goes it?**

**2. I understand that I made the knights a little harsh…okay **_**very**_** harsh. This is rated 'T' for a reason. If you have troubles with it though, send me a note. I want to know if how my knights acted were okay with you, my splendorous readers.**

**3. How about IC? Are we good?**

**4. I have quite a few OC's in here (and no, none of them are going to take spotlight) are they cool with you guys, or am I totally messing up?**

**5. Do I have any plot holes?**

**6. And, the last question, am I hitting your imaginations, making them work, or am I turning them off? (Be honest, this is an important question! I don't want anyone getting bored.)**

**Okay! That's it, until about…next week I guess, or a few days later, I have to get a root canal on Thursday and that _could _slow me down -shudder- …please review!**

**Catalyst**


	6. Shoes

**Um…I'd give you an excuse, but to be honest this amount of lateness doesn't have one. I intended to make this chapter long as an apology, but it didn't seem to work, as I am now being given these chapters deadlines and I must treat them as homework. You all can thank Spiritmind for that, she's the one now setting me deadlines.**

**And I'd just like to point this out Spirit, Valentines Day, two hours before midnight. **_**Told you**_** I'd make it. XD**

**It may seem slightly unedited, but my mind is also slightly gone, so it fits. XP**

**Anyway, because it's been so long (sorry! I'm a rotten procrastinator) I'll give you all a re-cap, those of you with photographic memory, go ahead and skip this. **

**Preview; Danny having terrifying dreams, and he couldn't remember them.**

**CH1; Danny remembers his dreams due to a wish by Desiree. He sends notes with Sam and Tucker during class. Mr. Lancer, curious at Danny's more than terrified behavior, eventually ends up taking said note and reading it—he learns (among other things) that Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are meeting behind the dumpster after school. Lancer catches them talking, but he really doesn't find out much more than Sam being mad at Danny (who, oddly has forgotten the dreams he remembered, and why they all wanted answers from him). Lancer, sensing a mystery, brings Danny with him to his classroom, where after a moment passes out.**

**CH2; The real story as to why Lancer passed out—Clockwork came for a visit. Told Danny Dan Phantom (or Dark Danny, but for the sake of the fic he will be addressed as Dan Phantom) had gotten out and showed him that he escaped into a time stream, bearing a time medallion with three others he had gotten out to come with him, of which the only ghost Danny recognized from that was the FrightKnight. Danny learns that if he is to survive the times it is with someone who knows it, Clockwork is having Lancer go with him. When thrust into a new time, Danny passes out next to his teacher, they are garbed in clothing of the time. Later, they're found, unconscious, by two peasants.**

**CH3; Dan visits CW two months before Danny arrives in the same time period. Danny has an odd dream—remembered this time, of a place in Nowhere, and speaks to something addressing itself as Noone. It is yet understood why/how. Lancer wakes up in the Middle Ages**

**CH4; Danny gives a lame excuse as to how they got there about a janitor ghost, ignoring Clockwork's warning to tell Lancer everything (yes, **_**everything**_**). Knights come while Danny was explaining, act horribly to the peasants that took Danny and Lancer in with an offering rife to Hillsvillage and take them away for slavery. Danny and Lancer were hidden at that time. Danny and Lancer walk parallel to the road until dawn, stumbling through roots, well, Lancer stumbling but Danny mysteriously easy on the impossible soil. They are captured 15 minutes outside the village.

* * *

  
**

An hour after dawn, inside of Hillsvillage.

Lancer stumbled through the dusty streets, blinking sleep out of his eyes. The want to keep moving had deserted him when his hands were tied too tight, and so his sleepless night was catching up.

Danny, on the other hand, was doing fine. His steps did not falter, not a word escaped him when merciless ropes were fixed over his wrists. And he was yet to show any signs of fatigue.

Lancer didn't bother to ask. Honestly, he was too tired to care much anymore. All he wanted was a nice, quiet nap in which he could forget all of the recent events and wake up in his bedroom, waking to find that all of this mystery was nothing more than an odd dream.

"Lancer." His pupil whispered under the hearing range of their captors, "Lancer, you need to stay awake." Lancer's head drooped. "Lancer!" Danny muttered harshly, "If you sleep now…well, I don't know what will happen…but I can guarantee it will _not_ be a good thing." Lancer struggled, the only thing keeping him moving was his students' elbow shoving into his back, "Lancer, if you fall asleep…if you fall asleep they'll separate us."

Lancer closed his eyes, slowing despite the desperate shoves he received. "Oh for crying out loud." Danny said to himself, resorting to what he called 'Plan E'. With a deep breath he hollered in Lancer's ear, "Ghost!"

With the desired effect, Lancer immediately looked up, his yes more alert and he moved forward on instinct. "Cut your muttering!" The captain of their escort hissed from feet ahead, "We're almost free of you."

Half hauling Lancer along, Danny made it to a relatively large (considering the surrounding hovels) manor. From there the captain walked in by himself to do whatever it was he was going to do for a while, leaving his prisoners and envoy to wait outside.

Lancer slumped on his students' stiff shoulder, "Daniel…I believe I've hit the point where I'm too tired to differentiate what's real and what's hallucination…so could you please tell me if that person down the street is the knight we encountered last night? Without the helmet mask…"

Curios, Danny glanced in the direction Lancer had indicated. After a moment of staring, Danny very suddenly ducked behind Lancer, "Keep your head down, don't let him recognize you." Danny whispered with a voice full of mixed shock and anger.

"But how will he be able to recognize someone he's never seen?"

Before Danny could reply, a large woman bustled out of the home they stood in front of, excitedly tugging the captain along behind her.

She tromped right up to Lancer and Danny, pushing a too-slow member of their guard out of her way as she did so. With a wide grin she examined them with thirsty eyes. Even in his zombie-like state, Lancer had it in him to shudder. He felt like a mouse caught in the grip of a cat underneath her stare.

The movement didn't go unnoticed as the large woman set her beady gaze on the teacher and…clapped her hands? "Now 'ow rude of me to go right up to ya and not introduce meself. Name's Clarice Gelsia and that'll be Mistress Gelsia to you boys," she said, nodding to herself approvingly. "I've been asking for a new chef to come and help with the feasting preparations, and he'll do right fine," Gelsia stuck a greasy thumb at Lancer.

"An' him," Gelsia continued, her eyes swooping over Danny like a hungered hawk, ready to let the adolescent squirm under her crude glare. Lancer felt a bite of fear for him, as the woman's eye seemed to linger on Danny longer than it should, "He looks 'bout right…I'll give him in to Odis, the stable manager, I'm sure he can use a new hand."

Gelsia laughed for no apparent reason and shook hands with the captain enthusiastically. "Thanks for the help son! You did a fine job!"

The captain bowed with ill-concealed confusion, "Anythin' for you mistress." With a tip of his head, the captain and his men left.

Mistress Gelsia ushered a stumbling Lancer and a supporting Danny to the inner bowels of the manor. The moment Lancer entered there was a swarm of chaos around him, he heard loud, sharp commands from the head of household behind him, a bit of pushing from someone—he guessed Danny—to get him moving. Within all of five minutes Lancer found himself out of the press of servants and in a quiet room littered with sleeping pallets.

"You'll need to get some rest," said a soothing voice, "I'll get you up in the early morn to help make breakfast. And, if I were you, I'd keep those nice clothes on my back. The amount of thieves has increased dramatically in these past few months that the count has died. But perhaps this new heir can re-gain order, eh?"

Lancer's vision was blurring from lack of energy, so he didn't get much of a good look at the face that was either grinning or barring its teeth. He merely grunted and collapsed on the incredibly comfortable pallet, ignoring whoever it was in favor of rest…

* * *

The next day, same place, dawn

He awoke to running feet outside his the room. Moments later a door slammed open, "Get up you lazy mongrels! The mistress doesn' like to be kept waiten!" A voice shouted.

Lancer sat up dazedly, momentarily forgetting what was going on around him…in fact, he couldn't remember sleeping on the floor…or that he didn't have shoes…and he was in the past so…

_Wait, he was in the past!?_ Lancer jumped up, his bare feet slamming onto the cold ground. Pushing the wonder of where his shoes had run off to in the back of his mind, Lancer followed a group of drab serving women to the hallway.

Dazed, Lancer did as the shouting voices directed, eventually going down a staircase, outside and back inside twice, past a large sitting room, stubbed his toe on a suddenly opened door and finally into a kitchen lineup.

There he was scrutinized by an old, moldy face that Lancer was yet to proclaim male or female, as it more closely resembled an angry cat. "What do yea know about cookin'?" it croaked. _Scratch that_, Lancer thought, _more like a frog than a cat_.

"I took courses—I mean lessons on how to make decent meal when you're lost in the wilderness when I was twel—" Lancer was cut off by the frog like face in front of him snorting.

"Yer one of them fancy fellers, aren't yea? 'Oh I been taught to cook by a legendary chef and I know lots more about the trade than you do because I learned to sit on me fat rump and enjoy the poets while eating my meal'" The lion (as Lancer was calling the person in his head) jabbed him with a wooden spoon, "Well if yer so smart an' fancy yea can work on the mistress's soups, but if I catch ya messin' up I'll send yea to work with the latrines—see how your fancy cookin helps yea then!"

With that the old prat turned and yelled at a small boy cutting up potatoes in the wrong way, leaving Lancer free to mull in confusion on what the heck he was doing.

He eventually ended up with a pot, three onions, four moldy carrots and six vegetables that he could not recognize. He stared at those ingredients for a while (repulsed by the carrots) and finally gave up, throwing the carrots in what he hoped was a trash bin.

Lancer searched the kitchen, cramped by the press of bodies, ignoring the slights he was given for bumping into someone. Lancer nicked whatever _good_ foods he could find for a soup; artichokes, beans, peppers, tomatoes, eggplant, dried gourds, a variety of dried or fresh herbs, and topping it off with what he suspected was fresh-not-rotten meat.

Lancer cooked carefully and slowly, somewhat glad the he had not forgotten how to make a stew. It took nearly all day, but by the time Lancer's grumbling stomach demanded payment for the missed lunch and breakfast, it was done.

Lancer smiled down at his creation, not too thick, and not too watery. The smell was sure to attract people…and hopefully Danny. Although he had looked, Lancer had not seen a toe of his student throughout the day, and that was with five trips to the latrines (which he refused to go in until it was absolutely necessary, the smell was _awful_).

A tug on his left leg brought Lancer's attention towards the floor, a little girl, skinny and ragged, but still cute with innocent brown eyes peeking up at him. She pointed mutely at the soup, and then rubbed her exposed ribs with a slightly boney hand. Understanding even before she had made any gestures, Lancer looked around for a bowl. Spotting one on the other side of the table, he made a _shh_ing motion and walked over to it.

"OUT! Yea filthy vermin! Get outta me kitchen, you!" The lionistic woman was marching threateningly to the child Lancer intended to feed, brandishing a very frightening spoon.

Repulsed at what she was doing to a very malnourished child, Lancer acted immediately. "Hey! Don't, she—she's mine!"

The lion whipped around, spotting Lancer and sneering. "So ya decided you was gonna waste the mistresses hard-earned profit on a beggar, did you? I knew you fancy chefs were no good in my kitchen!" With her spoon, the lion scooped an amount of Lancer's soup into her mouth, her wrinkles creasing slightly for a moment.

With a shrug, the lion swallowed. "Not bad…fine, yea can give a bit to your little 'un, but only fer today, and don't let me catch ya stealing from the mistress again!" With slight surprise, he moved in the direction of the soup, but the lionistic woman stopped him. "Not tha', the mistress will want it fer her supper, get your share of bread for the day an' you can share it with your little 'un."

Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, "An' that's a whole loaf for ya, I know times are hard and feeding your child will be too, if you keep making soup like tha' for the mistress, it'll stay one loaf." With a wink, she grinned, "I got me a daughter, too, ya know."

With that the lion turned promptly away, berating a few servants for cooking too close to the fire as she went.

Wasting no time, Lancer took a loaf, scooped the extremely light little girl into his arms, and left. He stopped outside of the kitchen, broke the bread in half and held it in front of the child. "I don't think I have much time," Lancer whispered, looking intently into the little girls face as she took the offered food. "I lost a friend of mine, I came in with him. He's young, fifteen, can you help me—"

The child walked away, beckoning behind her. Lancer followed cautiously, his bare feet careful not to hit anything sharp.

A few turns and five servant detours later, Lancer found himself in an empty barn, the little girl chewing merrily on her food. She halted, and then pointed to a stack of hay, or rather, next to it.

Worried of what horror-filled shape he would find his student in when he walked around the stack, Lancer held up his uneaten half of bread, as if to protect himself from anything.

And found…his shoes? Sitting neatly, one next to the other, the two simple black-leather boots twinkled in a way that almost felt mocking. The girl laughed behind him and tugged on his pant leg, pointing at the other half of bread and once again rubbing her belly.

"But you haven't helped me find what I'm looking for." Lancer protested. The child pouted, pointed to his shoes, then back at the bread.

"I don't think you understand, I _need_ to find my student, his name is Danny and he came in with—"

"Ahh!" Whipping his head around, Lancer bolted to the door and peaked out. He knew that scream.

He watched as his student was hoisted upon a horse, clearly unconscious, by the knight he thought was the same from earlier. "Thank you, mistress; you shall be rewarded for finding another of the counts bounties."

Mistress Gelsia nodded eagerly, "A pleasure to serve."

_That voice…_Lancer thought, _I know that voice_. _Not only from the other night…but some other time…do I?_

"And when shall I get my reward?" Mistress Gelsia asked as the knight hoisted himself upon his mare. Something around the knight seemed to shimmer, as if there was something behind the image he saw, concentrating, Lancer barely noticed as the other half of bread was tugged from his limp hand.

"When the great count decides he is pleased with your gift, Mistress." At that moment, the appearance of the knight vanished, and Lancer saw, with horrible recognition, what was shimmering behind the knight.

Something—_someone_ he had seen before. When the town was invaded by mid-evil ghosts, and during Halloween. Gasping, Lancer hid his face further behind the barn door, frightened, for the FrightKnight had appeared before his very eyes.

No one else seemed to notice the change, Mistress Gelsia was still chatting happily to him, and a moment after she finished speaking he sped off, and only then did Lancer remember that Danny was limp on the back of the bony black-winged mare.

Shaking, Lancer slid back inside the barn, closing the door behind him. _What am I going to do?_ He wondered desperately. _Better yet, what in the name of __The Voyage of the Narwhal __was going on here?!

* * *

  
_

**Okay, now I've got deadlines on this thing, I'm hoping for sooner updates! My procrastination dies next to a deadline. ^^ Have a nice Valentines Day—and kill the evil pink frills! XD Now my own sleep-deprived mind must get some of what it craves - sleep! *faints*  
**

**~Catalyst**


	7. Plans

**Um...Yeah. ^^; No excuse...but updating!**

**Disclaimer: Butch Hartman owns Danny Phantom....

* * *

**

**  
Hills village, Dusk**

The little girl he had given all of his bread to tugged at his pant leg, smiling innocently. She pointed to the door on the opposite end of the barn. Distressed, confused, and still hungry, Lancer shook his head, "I'm not going to follow you around anymore—no." Lancer interjected, noticing as tears began to well up in her big eyes. "I'm sorry, but I really can't. I have so much to sort out, my student was just carted off by a ghost in disguise, I'm in the Middle Ages, and I'm ravenous. Now is not the time to go adventuring."

Apparently the little girl didn't understand, fat droplets of water were now spilling over her hollow cheeks. Lancer, baffled and having no idea what to do with this, simply continued to shake his head.

She cried harder, and Lancer was sure the noise was going to bring far too much unwanted attention. Deciding that it was better to entertain her needs then attract random servants while thinking out subjects he had no idea how to think out, Lancer agreed to go with her.

With a grin, all signs of a tantrum melting from her face, she hopped up and trotted to the end of the barn, tugging a reluctant teacher behind.

_Wherever I'm going_, Lancer thought, _I'm going to find out a way to retrieve Daniel…and then we're going to get as far away from this place as we possibly can_.

* * *

Lancer followed into the dank stairway, uneasy as he crept down to a room underground. He'd seen the little girl disappear into the door cracked open at the bottom, but for some reason that gave him absolutely no comfort.

Now as he stepped inside and gave his eyes a moment to adjust, Lancer was deeply regretting his decision to follow her. He shouldn't have cared about a toddler's tears when his student, his _responsibility_, had been kidnapped by a known evil (and highly dangerous) ghost.

_Slam!_

The one candle in the room Lancer had been adjusting his sights to blew out.

"What do you see?" Asked a voice from feet in front of him.

Pupils widened in a mixture of fear and the need for light, he was speechless. "What do you see?" The voice persisted.

"I—I see nothing!" Lancer answered hastily. Stumbling backward to find the doorknob.

"But you have seen." Hissed another voice behind him, "You have indeed seen…_the demons._"

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Lancer stuttered, shakily jumping away from the second speaker. Bumbling into a wall, he pressed himself up against it, quivering. There was silence.

A light burst into existence and set a small oil lamp. Blinking, Lancer looked around to find silhouettes of at least ten...twenty people. "You are an adult." The first speaker, a kid about fifteen, stated simply, cocking his head to the side.

"I—I am," Lancer glanced around, taking note that every other body in the room was a child.

"He hasn't seen anything," A boy, about ten, burst out. "He said so—we heard him. He said he didn't know what we meant." A group of smaller kids nodded in agreement.

Lancer frowned, his teacher instincts taking control. "You shoved me into a cellar, blew out the light, and interrogated me. How am I to react? By answering calmly? Or saying the first thing that popped into my mind?" He breathed out a sigh, looking back at the eldest of the group, speaker number one. "I don't even remember what you said, to be honest."

"Have you seen the demon?" Speaker number two asked, stepping around from behind Lancer, glaring through the young innocent features still on her face.

Lancer bit his lip, "You—wait, the Frightknight? He's not a demon—um, he's a...a ghost..." Lancer trailed off as the eyes of every child he could see widened. "What?"

"You know its name." The eldest boy muttered fearfully. "You—you must be its master!"

"Master?" Lancer snorted, the children edging away from him. "No, I can't control ghosts."

"Someone who knows the true name of a demon controls it," The girl whispered, pressing herself against the door.

"Seasons of Valor, no!" Lancer replied. "They prefer to shout their names to the high heavens! Well, most of them, anyway."

"Who are you to know so much of demons if you are not some sort of demonic high priest?" The first speaker asked, stepping forward defensively. A crowed of young ones ranging from four to twelve scampered behind him, leaving the second-speaker-girl and the five-year-old that led him here with Lancer on one side of the room.

Lancer lifted his arms in defeat, "I'm not a priest. I just—I come from a town with a lot of experience in this area."

The five-year-old on his side stepped next to him, taking hold of Mr. Lancer's pant leg.

She looked up to the oldest boy's eyes, clearly pleading. "Penny..." The boy sighed, turning around to face the group of children. "Penny was the first one to start seeing these things, and she's the one who found most of you and brought you here. I think that if she thinks this man is safe, then I agree with her."

"You only want your little sister to start talking again!" A nameless voice accused. "So you're going to do anything she wants you to!"

"Aaron," The girl still pressed to the door said, "They've got a point. No other adults can see them, why would it suddenly start now?"

The eldest boy, Aaron, stared at Lancer. "You saw it, though, right? What did it look like?"

"Knight type guy with fiery purple whatever that glows and rode a mare with black wings?" Lancer shrugged, "I saw it carry my student away. Which is why I shouldn't be here, I need to help him."

"Your student?" Aaron repeated.

Lancer nodded, "He's about your age and the, uh, Frightknight has probably seen him before. If the ghost recognized Daniel then I fear—"

"Daniel?" The boy interrupted. "Brook, isn't that the name of the kid it talked about?"

The girl pressed to the door nodded, relaxing. "They said 'Daniel' a few times, and that they were looking for him."

"Why would they be looking for Danny?" Lancer asked, frowning. "He shouldn't even know we're here—I don't even know if this is the same Frightknight I do know which would mean he wouldn't know Danny." Lancer glowered, muttering to himself. "I think I may have gotten carried away with that sentence..."

Aaron shook his head. "So, it took your student," he addressed the crowd of children once more. "He is on our side. He will help us." There were jovial shouts from a number of them, and three at the age of about six or seven broke forward to clamber around Lancer in a sort-of 'victory dance'.

Lancer grinned, baffled by their suddenly trusting behavior. "Help with what, dare I ask?"

Aaron smiled confidently, "Help us get rid of the scum that has killed our count and gotten rid of our most chivalrous knights, and then destroy the demons that have cast our lives in misery!" The children cheered in the light of their leader, shrieking in abundant joy.

Brook giggled behind him, whispering for Lancer's ears only. "He's a noble." Her eyes brimmed with admiration. "A real noble come to help us."

"A noble?" Lancer questioned, studying the boy try to calm the crowd in the cellars dim light.

"Yeah," Brook sighed, "Or, that's what we call him."

"Why?" Lancer was remembering various movies in which nobles treated peasants horribly.

Brook smiled, "Because nobles are the best—they have everything. Confidence, poise, money, and they're born leaders." She giggled. "We always joke that he was supposed to be born in the castle but the angel bringing his life to the word accidentally placed him in a peasant woman who used her dowry so she could dress like a noble on her wedding day."

"Interesting," Lancer mumbled, holding back a laugh.

Aaron disentangled himself from a flock of kids, making his way to Lancer. "So, how about it? Will you help us?"

"I don't know how I can," Lancer said. "The only person who knows enough about defeating ghosts was Danny, his parents were hunters."

"So we need to rescue your student?" With those loudly pronounced words, all the kids hushed, readily awaiting words from their leader. Aaron faced the crowd. "Listen, everyone. We need a meeting, you got that? We need to hold a meeting, we need to get everyone here—every single one of the rebellion. Tell them to bring their weapons, shirts, and a snack."

Aaron straightened, "We're going to break into the castle."

* * *

**Nowhere**

Danny blinked, hoping the pure white that filled every corner of his vision was simply a temporary blur, and his eyes would adjust. Actual images from the real world were bound to come up.

The disembodied voice giggled, "Your sight does not lie."

Danny stumbled to his feet, "Shut up…" he mumbled, looking at the ground where no shadow was cast. "How do I know I'm standing if I can't discern the floor from the walls?"

"What walls?" It inquired. "You are standing on Nothing."

"Right," Danny rolled his eyes. "Okay, no-one, if I'm…'nowhere' I'm currently out of it, correct? Is it possible for you to answer what happened?"

"Simple," Noone sneered, "You have been captured, and will remain so until your predator requires you."

Danny cringed, rubbing his forehead, "Yeah, I remember someone knocking me out…" He groaned. "After a long day of manual labor with _barely_ a scrap of food to keep me going, someone decides to shock me!" Danny scowled, "I don't know if you have any clue who did that, do you?"

"It was certainly _not_ Noone…but it is humorous."

Danny shook his head sourly, "Look, bodiless-voice-that-has-nothing-better-to-do-but-mess-with-me, this isn't what I was _sent_ here to do. I—I have a _mission_ to complete and—"

The voice cackled, "Ha! You were sent here to do exactly what happened to you!"

"What are you talking about?" Danny snorted, "You don't know why I'm here—you don't even know where I am!"

"Quite the contrary," Noone breathed, "I am aware of your quest. And I know you are where you are supposed to be."

"I'm not supposed to be captured!" Danny argued. "I need to be stopping my somehow still existing future alternate reality evil self!"

"He's a mouthful." Noone commented dryly. "But, no, your reason for being here was so that said creature could capture you in order to preserve his own existence." Noone laughed, "You were tricked."

"Was not!" Danny shouted, glaring. "I wasn't tricked—Clockwork sent me!"

There was silence, and Danny grinned in victory. Clockwork was his trump card.

Slowly, the white surroundings darkened in one place, or perhaps it was getting brighter and outshining everything else in the room, making its white background seem like it'd gone down a shade. Either way, the changes in lighting knitted themselves together in order to form a sparkling humanoid silhouette.

The glowing form inched closer, cocking its head to the side. "Clockwork?" Noone asked in a quiet voice.

Danny licked his lips, bobbing his head in silent affirmation.

The creature of light tottered from step to step, surveying Danny with no eyes. "You trust…Clockwork?"

"Yes." Danny answered without hesitation. "I trust Clockwork with my life."

"Then you are a fool." Noone put a lax hand on its glowing hip, chuckling. "D-a-n-n-y, Danny! Have you not learned never to trust a being of considerable power? You put your faith in someone who will stop at nothing to keep his time line safe." Noone snorted, "You are indeed an ignorant fool."

"At least I'm someone!" Danny growled, "Clockwork wouldn't do anything to hurt me!"

Noone straightened, and Danny had to blink the momentary stars out of his pupils from staring at the impossible human outline. "Impossible child," Noone sympathized, "What would he try to save first? You, or the fate of universal stability?"

"But—I'm here to correct the time line." Danny stuttered, bringing up a hand to smooth knots that formed within his neck.

"Yes." Noone agreed, "You will be the unfortunate bait that keeps this universe from dissolving, D-a-n-n-y, Danny." It sighed, "Think, why did Clockwork send you?"

"Because I'm the only one who can stop—"

Noone gesticulated in a dismissive wave. "No. If he wanted that thing stopped he'd send someone else—a ghost with power. You? Your 'other self' knows not only your so-called 'moves', but he knows your weaknesses, your hopes, your fears, your _dreams_. Why would Clockwork send you? Your enemy already has a checkmate over you. He could stop it himself, could he not?"

"The medallions." Danny said simply, "He can't touch Dan because of the medallions."

Noone barked out a laugh, "Those _medallions _are of Clockworks own make! He very well knows how to work them, thwart them. Face it, D-a-n-n-y, Danny, you came here as _bait_!"

"That's ridiculous." Danny whispered, his heart racing. "Clockwork would never do that."

"I am sure he did not entirely wish to..." Noone trailed.

An image flashed into mind, of Clockworks helpless, saddened face. When Danny saw him last he had looked...apologetic. It had to have been because Clockwork was depressed, he couldn't keep Dan contained, but...another image drifted forth, one of it taking _days _and a lot of noise for him to escape. Clockwork had to have noticed, he would have tried to stop it...but the portal image showed no attempts at keeping the thing from exploding, and Clockwork had plenty of time to tell Danny—he was the _master _of it. Clockwork would have done all this deliberately. There was no other conclusion.

"Of course," Noone continued, as if Danny had not undergone a revelation that was leaving him confused and a little betrayed. "I do not believe Clockwork had a choice."

Danny blinked, "What was that?"

"Clockwork had no choice." Noone repeated.

Danny frowned, "There is _always _a choice."

"And that choice was...?"

Danny plopped back onto the ground, "I don't…really think I know…"

* * *

**Hills village, late night**

Mr. Lancer leaned back against the wall, surprised by the amount of children that had showed up. It must have been every kid that lived within the village, or, well, almost. Lancer could count on both hands the amount of teenagers in the room—and the fifteen-year-old Aaron was the oldest of all. Next to him were Ezekiel, Brook, Jeremiah, Mary, Ruth, Matthew, Alexander, and Cameron.

Lancer carefully memorized their names, as they were the oldest in their teenage years, and therefore the likely team that would 'break into the castle' with him. He would have objected to children putting their lives in danger, but Aaron insisted that if Danny knew how to defeat the 'demons' then they needed him. And Lancer already agreed before all that even came up.

The other children, though…they were the army while the older kids played a Calvary. There seemed to be fifty, although he was told it was only thirty-six young ones. It was incredible, too, as even though they fidgeted and talked among one another they respected Aaron and silenced when he asked them to. A teacher would have killed to have that kind of leadership.

Granted, it was probably earned by protecting the kids from ghost-knights and believing their stories of demons when no adult saw what they were. Aaron had informed Lancer that any adult that believed their child either stayed silent, or disappeared after speaking out. After a while, it had become regular that a parent would severely punish their child for claiming to see things that 'weren't there'.

And the teenagers sometimes saw it and sometimes didn't. The ones that did and got too loud were shipped to convents. Aaron shuddered upon telling him, and Lancer felt for the boy. From what he'd read, convents were not the most suitable of places, especially for an adventurous young kid.

Boys and girls were separated and one had to do mountains of clerk work, along with so much kneeling and praying that the stories that managed their ways out of those places were more like horror tales. Those who liked the places didn't often leave to tell stories, so convents were shrouded with bad rumors. And for good reason, Lancer supposed.

"Alright everyone, listen up…" Aaron commanded, immediately silencing the crowd. "We gotta mission to do." Hushed, it seemed as if everybody squeezed in the basement leaned in to hear what he had to say. Once again Lancer was thinking of how many a teacher would kill for this type of attention.

"Is it another food raid?" A random child blurted. There were murmurs of excitement within the younger ones.

"No," Aaron sighed, "Although we may need to do another one of those, and soon. But first," And here all whispering died again, "First we have to do a rescue mission."

Ezekiel stirred, clenching his fists. "Who are we rescuing, Aaron?" the boys voice was filled with a strangled hope.

Aaron gestured to me, "Well, as you all see, there's an adult here. His name's William." Aaron sat down, nodding me forth. I swallowed, squirming under the spotlight I had envied.

"You see," I started, standing. "My student was kidnapped by this ghost—I guess you call it a demon. The ghost's name was the Frightknight," a burst of noise traveled through the crowed, but a movement of feet from behind that suggested Aaron had stood quickly silenced it. "Daniel's parents were hunters in this area. They would get rid of the ghosts that entered my town back home…" Lancer trailed off, lost in a sudden thought, "Danny's parents were ghost hunters…of, of course!"

In a bout of inspiration Lancer paced around the small dirt circle sanctioned off for a speaker. "His parents are ghost hunters, so what if they were using this time and this place as a holding place for him? As a ransom or something against his parents? It could make sense, but…but…" his idea shook, on uneven ground with one little factor. "But why am I here?"

"Uh…William, sir?" The blond one—Matthew, inquired, clear worry on his face. "What do you mean?"

Lancer looked into his eyes, into the gray-green dim color that shouldn't at all be reminding him of a ghost's eyes. But they did, and one ghost in particular. This boy's hair had a much tidier array, and it was indeed a light blond, not at all white…somehow, Matthew was enough to remind him of their town's most famous ghost.

Specifically, a certain phrase said relatively often by the poltergeist. "'You're making a mistake…'" He whispered, smiling faintly at the quote. "…The ghost made a mistake. I shouldn't be here." Lancer mumbled, much to the confusion of his surrounding group. "But if I'm not supposed to be here then they won't know about me, and I can make a difference…"

Lancer shook his head. "Change in plans."

"What?" Bemused, Aaron pushed a stray lock of dark hair from his face.

"We aren't going to break into the castle to help Danny, not yet." Lancer replied, returning to a fast pace.

"Why not?" Ezekiel interrupted, "If we got your student we could help to save other people from in there—like my dad."

"Exactly!" Lancer cried, grinning. "Can anyone here read?"

They blinked at him. "Never mind," Lancer continued, frowning, "Maybe if I can understand you talking I can understand writing, too."

Ruth folded her arms, "Excuse me, sir? But what are you going off about?"

"I'll explain, just tell me, would the church have any scriptures or books concerning demons and how to get rid of them?" Lancer asked, knitting his brows together.

"…Yes," A young girl, about twelve with a braid holding together her red locks answered. "My daddy works with the priest and his garden. Daddy says that the inside is full of books—and they all say church things."

"No use, whatever you're thinking." Aaron muttered, "They guard the church. There's always a demon around outside of it and they're always watching us in there—no way could anyone get into the back room for the books."

"But I need the information." Lancer bit his lip, "Isn't there a way to sneak in?"

Mary cocked her head to the side, "What's so important that you have to sneak into the chapel?"

The teacher rubbed his pounding forehead, "Ghost hunting started in this time. There has to be knowledge of a way to defeat or temporarily paralyze them inside of those scriptures…" Lancer trailed, thinking quickly. "I know that Danny might be a help but his parents really used more advanced stuff…we're probably talking herbs and anti-ghost mixtures created by nature. I doubt the boy paid as much attention to ghost-affecting plants as he did to my lessons."

Ruth played with a younger kids hair, looking up at William Lancer questioningly. "If you're seeking plants, there are probably answers in the church garden book. They burned down the garden when they got here, but the book should still be in the chapel. But we are confused. Why do you wish to change your plans?"

"You see," Lancer started, "I was banking on the idea that if my theory was right, Danny's parents had created enemies that would get him here, under captivity. But, the memory of one particular ghost reminded me that ghost's have a tendency to make mistakes. In this case, _me_."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Aaron admitted.

Fiddling with the concept, Lancer rocked back on his heels, "They don't know I'm here, they wouldn't expect me…this wouldn't really make a difference if Danny's janitor ghost story was real, but now with the Frightknight—and his kidnapping of Danny I can only assume that it was planned. And I wasn't supposed to be here…"

Lancer grinned, "Meaning I have the element of surprise!"

Blinking, Aaron took a step back. "We had the element before, too."

"No, but I also remembered something else," Lancer added, and tapped his bald cranium. "In a book written about ghosts—I had to catch up on them because of the constant invasions—the origins of ghost hunting started around the dark ages and was recorded in church books as ways to get rid of demons—and I bet that some of them were real. Some of them _worked_."

"I don't understand." Many muttered agreement with Aaron.

Lancer sat down on a crate, surveying the poorly-lit audience that seemed to have keyed into his every movement. "What I'm saying is—these books, some of them, at least, I believe will get rid of your demon problem. Possibly permanently. If we used them as one of our weapons upon entering that castle, I think we might have a chance."

"What about the soldiers that aren't demons?" A kid wondered. "They won't get no hurts by it, but they believe the lie, they'll attack us for trying to break into the castle."

"Simple," Aaron replied, "We'll set free the imprisoned palace guard."

Faces brightened considerably with that answer, "Yeah, they'll get rid of those bullies for us. And we'll get rid of those demons for them."

"And I'll get my student back." Lancer smiled, confident that he had managed to fabricate some sort of plan. "So we break into the church. This should be…_interesting_."

* * *

**So...yeah. Updated! ... I swear, never to promise sooner updates again. :faint: I think it makes it _worse_. Promises make me procrastinate...  
**

**~Catalyst  
**


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